


superman's in pajamas on the couch

by bobina



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Character Study, Danvers Sisters, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Original Character(s), Non-Linear Narrative, POV Multiple, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2018-12-29 22:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 24,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobina/pseuds/bobina
Summary: In a world of uncertainty, who else do we have to rely on but each other?A loosely connected series of one-shots and ficlets. Season 1 is canon. Everything else is up for grabs.





	1. words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [m0nstera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/m0nstera/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat's been gone for weeks, and Kara can't help her curiosity any longer. (Cat/Kara, pre-relationship)

The screen lights up at her touch. Kara closes her eyes against the harsh light, taking a moment to breathe before her thumbs begin to move over the keyboard. She types out a greeting and hates how it’s somehow informal and _too_ formal at the same time.

She types _Where are you?_   to get right to the point, but erases it because it sounds demanding in her mind and she is _not_ the demanding one in this relationship. Partnership. Former.

Kara breathes out through her nose and resists the urge to throw her phone across the room. Her legs shift under the blanket draped across her lower half. She sticks her socked feet out from under it and punches the throw pillow at her side into submission.

_Hi Cat! Did you see I wrote 8000 words on a human trafficking ring on an alien moon last month? Snapper called it “adequate” which I think is just his way of_

“Ugh, this is so _stupid._ ”

She stabs at the screen with her index finger, erasing the message and exiting out of the messaging app for good measure. She sets her phone in her lap and leans her head into the back of the couch with a groan. The night outside is dark and quiet. Alex is out with Maggie, and Winn and James aren’t returning her calls, again, and so much alone time has weakened her impulse control. She has so much she wants to say to all of them, so many words stuck in her throat and stuttered at her fingertips, and it’s so much easier to smile and let them be. She can see them and know that they’re alright, with or without her, but Cat Grant is a curiosity that nags at her. She cut herself out of Kara’s life so swiftly, and Kara wonders, every day, whether Cat realizes the impact she had on Kara’s life.

Kara’s hands twitch and she picks up the phone again. She presses the home button over and over in a nervous flutter. When the screen flashes back on for the twentieth time, she swipes in her passcode and reopens the messenger app and starts typing.

 _I wonder where you are in the world and if you’re happy._ She hits send.

 _I try and remember your advice, that I can have whatever I want in life, just not all at once and not right away, at least once a day, but it doesn’t always help._ She hits send.

 _What do you think about James’ insistence on giving Guardian equal press time to Supergirl?_ She hesitates for just a second before she hits send. She actually does want to know the answer to that question.

 _Did you read my article?_ Her finger hovers over the delete button for long seconds. _I think it’s my best work so far._ She hits send.

She sets the phone on the coffee table and stands from the couch, folding the blanket and walking away. She pads into the bathroom and brushes her teeth, washes her face. She turns on the table light in her bedroom and turns down the bed. She changes out of her rumpled work clothes and into a t-shirt and soft cotton shorts. She lets her hair down and only then returns to the living room, locking the front door on her way to shut off the lights and retrieve her phone. She holds it stiffly at her side as she returns to her bedroom, only looking at it once she’s settled under the covers. She checks the display, telling herself she’s just checking that her alarms are set, and nearly drops the phone when she sees she has three new messages. She blows out a breath and opens them with shaking hands.

 _Stop fishing for compliments, it doesn’t suit you._ Kara rolls her eyes at the non-answer.

 _Mr. Olsen is aware that the Girl of Steel is a priority for the CatCo brand, but there is nothing wrong with a little healthy competition, now is there? The Trib’s sales are certainly a reason to keep them both on the payroll, so to speak._ Kara scowls, an uncomfortable flare of jealousy pinking her ears. “Of course she’d take his side,” she mutters.

 _Not every path in life is straight and clear. You are smart and you are capable and you will find your way. That article is a good start._ Kara can practically hear Cat’s impatient huff, and a soft smile quirks the corners of her mouth.

She notices that Cat hasn’t responded to her first message and fears she’s over-stepped. She reads Cat’s other replies back again, committing the words to memory, trying to picture the tilt of Cat’s head, the purse of her lips, the sunlight flashing gold in her eyes. She leans back into the depth of her pillows and stares at the ceiling for uncountable minutes. The phone buzzes in her palm, startling her into sitting up, and she stares down at the notification. She taps it open and the resultant smile is wide enough to strain her cheeks.

It’s a picture of Carter in a dark green forest, backpack on his shoulders, eyes wide and his hand outstretched, a tarantula resting in his palm.

Her phone buzzes again while she puzzles over the photo.

_Costa Rica. And yes. I am._


	2. fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremiah has been gone for two months. Kara, Alex, and Eliza try to go on. (Danvers sisters, genfic)

Kara studies the sky above her. Tendrils of smoke swirl over her head, and she follows them to the treetops and up to the stars with her eyes.

She’s been on Earth for almost two years and the night sky still jars her, planets and constellations missing or in the wrong places. Tonight, she finds comfort in it, squints her eyes and tries to see as far into it as she can.

Jeremiah taught her the English names and the humans’ stories for these constellations and the sight of them makes her ache for him.

He’s been gone two months. Two months since men dressed all in black with weapons strapped to their hips knocked on the door and told Eliza that Jeremiah wasn’t coming home. They gave no answers then, and the stars, distant and cold, give Kara no answers now. She wonders if she’s destined for death to follow her, if simply surviving when she knows she should have perished with the rest of her people has altered the fate of all of her loved ones, past, present, and future.

She closes her eyes to the stars and listens instead, hears the crack of the fire in front of her, hears Alex stirring in their tent, Eliza’s breathing slow and even. She hears animals in the distance, their footfalls soft and their calls quiet.

Jeremiah and Eliza have taken Alex camping at least a few times a year since she was old enough to walk, and when Kara entered their lives two years ago, they continued the tradition with her in tow. The sounds of the forests and the deserts they’d traveled to used to overwhelm her, but Kara is comforted by the presence of wildlife now. Most of the animals on Krypton had gone extinct or lived only in sanctuaries by the time she was born. Earth is a living, breathing planet in a way Krypton never was to her, and she settles into the sounds of the forest at night.

The harsh rasp of a zipper opening jars the quiet. Kara opens her eyes and turns her head toward the noise, sees Alex illuminated in the red glow of the fire. Her sister stretches and wipes sleep from her face before stuffing her feet into her hiking boots, leaving them unlaced as she stumbles over to where Kara sits. She plunks ungracefully onto the picnic bench and lays her head on Kara’s shoulder, staring blearily into the fire.

“Why are you awake?” she mumbles, snaking her arms around Kara’s middle.

Kara rests her cheek atop Alex’s head and follows her gaze to the fire. It’s been burning since the sun went down hours ago. They’d half-heartedly roasted marshmallows over it, stuffing themselves full of s’mores after dinner because they felt like they should. They were Jeremiah’s favorite.

The red glow of what’s left of the coals reminds Kara too much of Krypton’s sun and she turns away, burying her nose in Alex’s hair. She smells floral shampoo from two days ago under campfire and sweat. She smiles for the first time in weeks.

“Just… remembering,” she whispers and Alex’s arms tighten around her. An owl hoots softly in the distance. “C’mon.” Kara shrugs her shoulder, rousing Alex. “You’re gonna get cold.” They stand together, hands intertwining, and make their way back to the tent, careful not to wake Eliza.


	3. library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If anyone should've known that Superman had a cousin, it's Carter Grant. (Carter & Cat, genfic)

His mom tells him he’s the smartest boy in his class, maybe even his school. She says that grades don’t always tell the whole story, and now that they’ve found a school where the teachers know how to teach him the right way, the way he needs, maybe the rest of the world will see how smart he is, too.

His mom is _always_ after the whole story, the whole truth. She didn’t get to be the Queen of All Media for nothing.

And that’s what he’s doing. He’s getting the _whole truth_.

He thought he was an expert on Superman, and there’s no reason he shouldn’t be. He’s been studying the Man of Steel his whole life. Every newspaper article, every picture, every blog, he has stored in a box in his closet and in the special folder in his bookmarks on his computer.

But Carter Grant had no idea that Superman had a cousin. Especially not one as pretty as Supergirl.

But that’s not why he’s here, no, it’s not just that she’s pretty!

If he’s going to call himself an expert on Superman, and believe it, then he needs to find out where he went wrong, how in all his thirteen years he could’ve missed the fact that Superman had a Kryptonian family here on Earth. His mom wants to meet Supergirl and talk to her, but Carter knows that’s not how to learn about someone. He learns by watching them, following their actions. Asking Supergirl who she is to her face won’t get his mom – or anyone else, for that matter – anywhere. So Carter is following the evidence.

The main branch of the National City Public Library is enormous, and he’s spent countless hours here over the course of his life. He knows if anywhere outside of Metropolis has what he’s looking for, it’ll be here, not in the periodicals section or in the archives, but in the restricted section, in those books that can’t be checked out for more than a few hours and can’t leave the building.

The librarian doesn’t ask him why he’s not in school, just gathers the books he asks for and shows him where he’s allowed to sit with them. It’s 11 o’clock in the morning on a Thursday and this section of the library is mostly empty. Everything echoes and he does his best to block it out, pulling out a crisp new notebook and a new pencil from his backpack, getting to work.

A lot has been written about Superman since he showed up on Earth and saved a plane from crashing. Carter wonders if Kryptonians have a thing for airplanes, or if they’re just big and noticeable when someone stops them from falling back to Earth too soon, too fast.

And that’s what he’s ultimately looking for in these textbooks and government records, some clue as to how two Kryptonians fell to Earth but the world only ever knew about one of them. He doesn’t understand all of the legalese or science jargon, but book after book, article after article, dissertation after briefing after report, no one even mentions the possibility of two Kryptonian pods landing in Kansas or anywhere else. Just the one, always the one, and Carter knows without a shadow of a doubt that they are wrong.

In the waning afternoon sunlight, he’s no closer to finding what he’s looking for, something, some _one_ who has the answers. His hands are clammy and his heart is beating too fast and the words blur on the page. _Author [redacted]. An unnamed but significant meteor shower over the state of Kansas in 1979 produced [redacted]._ Every piece of information that could get him anywhere has already been taken by, Carter assumes, men in cheap black suits and government vehicles. He slams a book shut in frustration and suddenly all the sounds of the library, every echoing footstep and hushed voice, the ding of the elevator and the whoosh of cars outside come rushing back to him. He rubs his eyes and tells himself _just one more_ until he feels her behind him. He smells her perfume before he sees or hears her and his shoulders sink.

“Carter, it’s time to go home.” Her voice is calm, measured, and the quiet timber of it is unnerving. He spins around and tries a too-wide smile. He looks past her as he thinks up a lie, an excuse. He can’t look at her face yet, knows the hard lines and the pinch around her mouth already. “Mom! Hi! I was just, um, doing some research for a project at school and –”

“Carter.” Her tone withers him where he sits. She yells at work and gets out her anger in spin class, and she would never raise her voice to him. But that doesn’t mean she never gets angry, or scared, or disappointed. “The school called me. And the police. We’re going home, and we’re having dinner, and then we are talking.” The way she says _talking_ sets his blood cold and he knows, he _knows_ his mom loves him, but he also knows he’s scared her. “Put the books away. Let’s go.”

He shuffles awkwardly to comply, the books too heavy all at once, his backpack slipping off one shoulder to hang haphazardly at the crook of his elbow. The librarian, so helpful before, now looks chagrined and more than a little frightened when she glances at his mom. He hopes she doesn’t get fired. She takes the books from him and hands him back his library card and then Carter is being whisked through the main lobby and out the front door to his mom’s waiting town car. Before he can slide into the open door, his mom grabs him by the shoulder, spins him and pulls him into a crushing hug.

“I’d say ‘never do that again’ but I know by now it’s a lost cause.” She buries her nose in his hair and he resists the urge to squirm away. She needs this, even though it makes his skin too tight after too long. She pulls away, holds him at arms’ length. “We will work out a system, where you tell me what you need, and I give you the freedom to do it, but your grades don’t slip anymore and you tell me, you have to _tell me,_ Carter, where you are. Okay?” She pulls him close again.

“Okay, Mom.” He wraps his arms around her waist once, quickly, and then they’re sliding into the car and heading into mid-afternoon traffic. Her hand stays on his shoulder the whole way home.


	4. joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara cannot contain her excitement on a very big day. (Alex/Maggie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured we could all use a little fluff this week.

 

Kara can’t breathe.

She’s so excited, she feels ready to burst out of her skin. It’s not even her day, but she still can’t contain herself. She’s already broken one pair of glasses and nearly ripped her dress getting ready.

“Alex is getting married!” She really does feel like she’s going to burst. She’s so happy for her sister, and Maggie, and their family.

“Yeah, Kara, we’ve known that for about nine months since they announced their engagement.” Winn does not sound nearly as happy as he should. Kara looks over at him, notices the tension in his jaw and the white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

“Winn! What’s wrong?” she pouts at him. It only lasts a second before her ever-present smile threatens to overtake her face again.

Winn breathes out slowly, like he’s trying not to get mad, and glances at the passenger-side door where Kara’s arm is resting. “I don’t even want to know what that’s going to cost to repair.”

“Huh?” Kara follows his gaze and looks down at her arm. Her death-grip on the armrest has torn the cloth covering and indented the vinyl. “Ohh, gosh, I’m so sorry!” She lets go, folding her hands together in her lap, looking decidedly sheepish.

And then her leg starts bouncing.

“Kara. Breathe.” Winn pulls into the parking lot of the courthouse and parks the car. He turns in his seat, the seatbelt across his chest wrinkling his suit, and reaches for a hug. Kara returns it gladly. “Ready?”

Kara nods. “Ready!”

They pull apart and exit the car, making the short walk arm-in-arm across the parking lot to the side entrance of the building. After a brief, thankfully hassle-free security check, they find Alex and Eliza already inside with J’onn, James, Vasquez, and several of Maggie’s friends. As soon as Kara sees her sister, her breath catches in her throat again. Alex turns to her, tears pricking her eyes, and they fall into a hug. Eliza ushers the others further down the hall, giving the sisters a moment together.

Kara breaks the embrace first, clinging to Alex’s shoulders, looking her up and down. Alex’s hair is in loose waves that frame her face and her makeup is light, highlighting her eyes and cheekbones. Kara’s gaze sweeps down over the fitted white suit and heels and back up to sister’s face.

“Alex…” she breathes. “Oh, you look so beautiful.” She pulls her sister close once more and whispers in her ear, “Maggie’s not gonna know what hit her.”

“You think so?” Alex’s voice shakes and her hands grip Kara’s elbows tight enough to leave the briefest marks on her skin.

Kara nods. “I know so. She’s so lucky to have you. You’re both so beautiful and lucky. I love you!” She can’t help but gush. She’s been looking forward to this day, to seeing her sister getting the love and happiness she deserves, for a long time.

“I love you, too, sis.” Alex pulls back, wiping carefully under her eyes with her knuckles.

“Wow.” A voice calls from behind Kara and they both turn. Maggie stands near the clerk’s counter, clutching her bag with both hands, nervous smile gracing her features. “Alex, you look… wow.”

“Wow, yourself, Detective,” Alex teases, taking in the sight of her soon-to-be-wife in a cream, sleeveless dress that hugs her figure, and her hair swept off her shoulders in an elegant up-do.

Kara steps back, moving to her foster mother’s side as she watches the happy couple come together in a brief kiss. Her heart thuds in her chest and her grin is wide enough to make her cheeks ache. Eliza takes her hand and Kara squeezes back, resting her head on the older woman’s shoulder.

The clerk steps up to the counter with a smile, forms in-hand. “Congratulations, ladies. If I could have you fill these out.” She slides the paperwork across the wooden surface of the counter. “And who are our witnesses today?”

Kara feels a flutter in her chest and she wipes at her eyes, stepping forward along with Maggie’s partner. He catches her eye and she smiles back. They present their IDs and sign the requisite forms, and only a moment later, everyone is being ushered into the courtroom where the justice is waiting for them.

Maggie and Alex stand together at the front of the room, the justice between them, while the others fill the front bench. Kara slides her hands into Winn’s and Eliza’s, feels the weight of James’ arm slung across their shoulders, and barely hears a word being said in front of them as she waits for the best part.

“I now pronounce you spouses for life. You may kiss your bride.”


	5. unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tells himself he's doing what's best for her. (Clark & Kara, genfic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get two chapters tonight because they're both short and I've got something bigger planned.

Her hand is small in his.

She clutches to him tightly, her grip strong enough to make his joints creak. He pauses at the edge of the footpath leading to the big white house. He can see Alex in the upstairs window watching them. Jeremiah and Eliza wait on the porch.

He feels like he should say something, but the words dry up long before they reach his mouth. The English language feels inadequate in ways he can’t describe, and his Kryptonese is far too shaky to do this moment justice.

He chances a glance down at Kara, watches the way the breeze coming up the edge of the cliff catches in her hair. She stares ahead, her blue eyes hard, determined.

 _Concentrating_ , he realizes too late.

She’s concentrating on focusing her eyes to disengage the x-ray vision, and he didn’t even think to teach her how to temper it, or her hearing, and he doesn’t even know if she can control her strength because she’s only been around _him_. It was her destiny, forced on her by their parents, to take care of him on this new planet, and faced with it now with their roles reversed, he is utterly failing.

He knows it’s selfish, but how is he supposed to take care of a teenage girl _and_ be a superhero _and_ be a junior reporter? He can barely take care of himself half the time and he had two loving parents to raise him. Kara needs more than a 25-year-old man-child in a bachelor pad apartment.

The wind whips his cape and Kara looks up at him, squinting in the sun. Her eyes sparkle in a way he’s never seen in a human. It unnerves him more than maybe it should, to _see_ the difference he’s spent his whole life trying to understand. It should bring him relief, to find the one person on Earth who can understand him, who can speak to him in the language of their people, who can tell him what Krypton was really like, who knew his parents.

If he’s being honest with himself, it terrifies him to have proof of his otherness staring back at him.

So he does the only thing that makes sense to him. He walks with her up to the big white house and lets go of her hand as Eliza descends the porch steps, Jeremiah just a few steps behind. Kara looks back once before they lead her inside, and he holds her gaze for only a moment before taking off into the gathering clouds.


	6. feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara turns to an old comfort in the face of new hurt. (Kara, genfic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get two chapters tonight because they're both short and I've got something bigger planned.

The night Astra dies, Kara flies for hours. She circles National City in endless loops, letting the wind push and pull her where it will. She pushes herself out over the desert to the east, screaming rage and tears. The air bends to her, the force of her body creating shockwaves that stir up dirt and rocks hundreds of feet below. The resulting sonic boom barely registers to Kara’s ears.

She flies higher and higher until the tears streaking her cheeks begin to freeze and gravity starts to lose its grip on her. Closing her eyes, she lets herself fall until the wind whistling in her ears becomes a roar.

She rights herself mere feet from slamming back into the earth and opens her eyes to a blinding sunrise igniting the hills and filling her cells. The rage gives way to a hollow melancholy as the sun warms her skin and dries her tears and Kara slows, tumbling through a landing in the middle of the desert.

She sinks to her hands and knees. Sharp rocks scrape at her knuckles and wedge under her fingernails. She breathes, long and slow, a hot lump of tears lodged in her throat and pounding in her ears. She sinks back onto her feet, knees splaying at angles as her head drops back. The wind ruffles the ends of her hair and pricks tears from her eyes, and it carries with it an unfamiliar sound.

A harsh, raspy call echoes across the open valley in staccato notes, rising in pitch and volume before pausing and starting again. Kara focuses on it, grasping for it in her mind, something, _anything_ outside of this never-ending grief.

It doesn’t take her long to spot the small bird, no larger than her hand, with its downward curved beak, striking white eye-stripe, and spotted black fan tail. Almost as if sensing her attention, the bird calls once more in a gasp of breath and then alights from the cholla cactus it had been perched on, the underside of its wings a quick flash of stripes and then it’s gone. Kara watches its path long after it’s disappeared past the horizon, committing its coloring to memory.

The wind whips her hair around her face, forcing her to blink, forcing her to come back to herself. She closes her eyes and breathes, her throat soggy and her jaw tight. She thinks about that bird and hears its song in her head.

There’s a worn copy of the western states edition of the _Sibley Guide_ tucked away on a shelf in her apartment, dog-eared with a cracked spine. She’s had it since she was thirteen. Jeremiah gave it to her, smiling ruefully as he said, “Guess you won’t need the binoculars I bought.” He taught her how to use the key, and they sat on the bench in the yard together until sundown identifying every bird that flew overhead. She put it away for a long time after he disappeared, but she knows it’s there when she needs the comfort of the routine it offers.

So she’ll go home, and she’ll find it again, and she’ll study it until she finds this bird, and then she’ll call Eliza and tell her all about it.

Kara stands slowly and pushes the hair from her face. She turns toward the sun and basks in its rays for whole minutes before pushing off, fist above her head and cape whipping behind her. She turns into the wind and heads home.


	7. celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The house in Midvale will always be a safe haven, and sometimes pancakes are the only way to celebrate a victory. (Space Fam, genfic)

The house is quiet as the sky turns to soft gray. The morning fog is thick, muting the sounds of the gulls drifting overhead. Eliza watches the curtains sway where the window is cracked open. Even on the coldest nights, she likes the fresh air.

She sits up in bed and pushes long hair out of her face and off her neck, sweeping it back into a ponytail. Listening for any signs of life in the rest of the house, she stands and moves to her closet, wrapping a thin robe around herself before walking out to the hall. She peeks in Kara’s room first, knowing it will likely be empty. She pushes the door open and the first rays of struggling sunlight are just reaching Kara’s window, but the room is otherwise empty. She leaves the door open to let the light through and pads across the hall.

Alex’s door is perpetually shut, ever since she was twelve and decided her privacy was of the utmost importance. Eliza grips the handle and turns slowly, pushing open the door, wincing as it creaks on its hinges.

The sight before her makes her smile in a way she rarely does anymore. Alex and Kara are wrapped tight together on Alex’s bed, the covers thrown off and tangled around Alex’s feet, one poor pillow shoved between their faces. Kara’s cape is pooled under her sister’s head, and Kara’s arms are secure around Alex’s midsection. Alex’s hands are threaded through Kara’s hair.

They’re both at awkward angles and with the frown on Alex’s face as she fights wakefulness, they almost look like they’re in the middle of a wrestling match. Eliza considers going back in her bedroom and getting her phone to take a few pictures, but then Alex shifts her head and the cut on her left eyebrow becomes visible. Eliza’s view shifts and morphs and the idyllic scene is tainted with the reasons behind this impromptu visit, the reasons why her daughters are sharing a bed, seemingly unable to separate for any length of time. She can see dark bruises fanning across Alex’s upper arm and shoulder and shudders at the thought of what caused them.

Memories of watching the news reports on CatCo screens the day before flood back into Eliza’s mind. Alex risked her life fighting an alien invasion on the ground yesterday while Kara and Kal-El worked together to banish airborne invaders. They may have been up half the night regaling her with stories of the battle and patting each other on the back for a job well done, but one peaceful night’s rest can’t shake the images of Kal falling unconscious and powerless from the sky, of Kara swooping down, catching one wrist and the edge of his cape just before he hit the pavement.

Eliza hadn’t hesitated to insist that the three of them come back to Midvale with her to recuperate. Kal especially needed somewhere safe to wait out his solar flare. In the light of early morning, Eliza’s only regret is that she can’t do more.

Alex shifts again, bringing Eliza back to the present, and she knows it won’t be long until they’re all awake. She backs out of the room, closing the door gently behind her, and makes her way downstairs. She crosses through the living room to reach the kitchen and has to stifle a laugh at what she sees: Kal is wearing a pair of Supergirl pajama pants – she didn’t even know they came in his size – and a University of Metropolis t-shirt. His six-foot-four frame is stretched along her couch, bare feet dangling off one end and his head lolling back against the opposite arm. He’s using his cape as a blanket, which she supposes is apropos, and he’s snoring softly.

She can already hear the teasing in her mind when the three of them are awake and Kara is the only one without a crick in her neck. As if on cue, she hears the floorboards creak above her head, signaling that one of her girls is up. If one is up now, the other two will follow shortly after, and they’re going to be hungry.

Eliza knows they’re all adults and can fend for themselves in the kitchen, but Alex without coffee first thing in the morning is almost as terrifying as a hungry Kal and Kara. She hurries into the kitchen and starts the coffeepot before pulling out ingredients for pancakes. They may be adults, but the three of them did save the world yesterday, _again_ , and making them all breakfast is the least she can do. The stairs groan as Alex comes down to the first floor and makes a beeline for the kitchen.

“Coffee will be ready in a few minutes. Why don’t you set the table, sweetheart.”

Alex comes up behind her and snakes her arms around Eliza’s waist for a quick hug. “You’re the best mom ever.”

Eliza can’t suppress a scoff. “Now why didn’t breakfast do the trick when you were a teenager?” she teases, good-naturedly.

“Ha ha.” Alex’s sarcasm is short-lived as she reaches up to pull plates from the cupboard and immediately winces, hand going to her neck to rub at a sore muscle.  

“Good morning!” Kal announces himself, cape wrapped around his shoulders like a security blanket. “Do I smell pancakes, Eliza?”

Eliza rolls her eyes. Alex laughs and fake-gags. “Ew, Clark, it’s barely even batter yet!”

Kara decides that’s her moment to come bounding down the stairs. She skids into the room, blue eyes shining. “Did I hear something about pancakes?”

Eliza just shakes her head in exasperation. “There will be pancakes once I _cook_ them. Help your sister set the table. Kal, would you help me stir?”

“Sure thing.”

Eliza hands him the whisk and steps aside to pull mugs out of the cupboard. She watches with an amused smirk as Alex and Kara race to see who can set the table fastest – without breaking anything or resorting to superspeed – and listens to Kal grumble about having to whisk the pancake batter at a human pace. She thinks about calling Lois later to commiserate about powerless superheroes. Mostly, though, she thinks about how lucky she is to celebrate the dawning of a new day with her family, safe and sound.

And then a juice glass shatters on the wooden floor. Alex and Kara freeze, their eyes comically wide. Kal tries and fails to stifle a snicker.

Eliza sighs, shaking her head, but the smile never leaves her face.


	8. pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is hurting and Kara doesn't know how to help. (Danvers sisters, genfic)

Alex is hurting and Kara doesn’t know how to help.

She gets a call at 1 a.m., at 5, at 10 at night. Alex is loud when she’s drunk, angry and shouting and she doesn’t censor herself. Alex is quiet and seething when she’s sober, her pain etched in silences that breathe through the connection. Kara listens and wishes she could help.

Her phone rings on a Sunday morning, early, and Alex’s ringtone is harsh in her ears. She’s been up for an hour already, the sun coming in bright yellow slats through her roommate’s window. She answers hastily, trying to avoid Annalise’s ire knowing how late – or early – she had come in from the frat party last night.

“Alex, what’s wrong?” Standard greeting now. No ‘heys’ or ‘what’s ups?’ Just the assumption that something in Alex’s world has tipped her into suffering again, and again.

“Is this Kara?” The voice is familiar, but not her sister’s. She presses the phone closer to her ear and turns to her closet, listens to his uneven breaths, already planning in her mind what she’ll need to bring with her.

“Is Alex alright?” She tries to place the voice. One of Alex’s friends? Boyfriend? Neighbor?

“Yeah, she’s just… she had a, a rough night. I think she’d feel better if you were here.”

Brad. That’s his name. The sweet boy in Alex’s biochemistry lecture. Kara met him the last time she visited Stanford. Eliza was with them and insisted on taking Alex and “some of your friends, honey, I want to meet the people you spend your time with” out to dinner.

The drive takes longer than she wants. She could fly there in an instant but she hasn’t done it in years and knows it’ll upset Alex further if she even tries. There’s too much risk of being seen, of being caught, the DEO and what happened to Alex’s father always in the backs of their minds. She squeezes the steering wheel and feels the vinyl bend in her hands. The radio is noise in her ears and she filters it out, filters out the wind whipping around the car, filters out the whir of the tires and the axles, until all she can hear is her own heart beating quick in her chest. It calls to Alex, aches to beat in time with her sister’s. The road stretches on, endless miles of asphalt and fruit orchards that turn into rolling hills dotted with ancient oak trees somewhere around the turnoff for Highway 152.

The sun is setting against the trees when she pulls onto Alex’s street. Gold glints in her eyes and shadows cast the houses in gray tones. Three cars shove together, side-by-side, in Alex’s driveway. Kara parks on the street and shakes the road out of her clothes as she walks to the front door. She hesitates, knocks once, then again, stronger this time. One of Alex’s roommates answers, Chelsea. She’s tiny, barely five feet, with long, straight black hair and owlish eyes. She’s wearing a sweater with raccoons on it. Kara smiles and knows it looks as tight as it feels.

“Kara, hey, come on in, Alex is in her room.” Chelsea doesn’t ask questions, just leaves her to it, and for that, Kara is grateful. The television drones from the living room. Voices murmur as she passes through the house, skirting the main room until she reaches the hall. The doors are all shut and she closes her eyes, lets her ears take her to her sister.

She finds Alex lying face down on her bed. The smells of alcohol and sweat and stale sheets are overwhelming. She ignores her sister in favor of opening the window to the mid-fall chill. The window sticks and she has to temper her strength to avoid breaking the frame in her grip to get it to open. The wind ruffles her hair and dust particles race into her nostrils. She grimaces and turns to the room to survey the damage.

She starts with the liquor bottles first, filling Alex’s garbage can with the empties, pouring the remaining liquid down the drain in the bathroom next door. She sorts the clothes, clean and dirty, into the closet and dresser and hamper until she can see the floor again. Alex watches her with tired, red eyes, blinking slowly.

Alex is last. Kara pulls the bedding from around her sister and is unsurprised to meet resistance. She pulls with gentle hands at Alex’s fingers, releasing them from the sheets and the pillows by degrees until her heart is sore and the bed is bare.

“I love you, but I’m not going to strip you unless you physically can’t do it. Can you manage by yourself?” Her voice is rough in her own ears and she swallows around a sob.

Alex glares at her and it’s the most life she’s shown since Kara walked in the door three hours ago. Alex stands in one fluid movement from the bed, her eyes hard and brittle as she makes her way around her sister and into the bathroom. The door slams and Kara breathes out slowly when she hears the shower running.

She takes the trash into the garage where they separate the recycling, and then she gathers the dirty clothes and sheets and stuffs them into the washing machine. She sets a timer on her phone to remember to put them in the drier later, and walks out to the darkened street to her car, gathering her overnight bag and her laptop. The roommates order pizzas and ask her what she wants when she comes back in, and she realizes it’s the first time she’s thought about food all day. Her stomach churns but she tells them “whatever you usually get is fine, I’ll eat anything,” knowing it’s probably best if she eats.

She makes Alex’s bed with fresh sheets from the closet and watches her sister dress slowly, methodically, even though it’s just sweats and an old t-shirt from their high school.

“There’s pizza coming.”

“Okay.”

“I brought stuff with me if you need me to stay.”

Alex stares at the wall behind her head, her dark eyes no longer brittle, but round and lost. She bites her lip. “I don’t want you to miss class.”

It’s the first time she’s acknowledged Kara’s life outside of herself in weeks and Kara tries not to cry. Her hands fist in her lap and she breathes out through her nose. “One or two days won’t kill me.”

“Can I sit with you for awhile?” Alex’s breath stutters in her chest and she lets her tears fall. Kara scoots back on the bed and opens her arms, letting her sister fall into them. Alex burrows into Kara’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her middle and tangling their legs together.

“I love you,” Kara whispers into her hair. Alex just nods, her body already shaking with the force of her sobs.


	9. house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't exactly how Kara thought her day was going to go when she got up in the morning, but she's not exactly complaining. (Cat/Kara, pre-relationship)

She’s been chasing him around the city for over an hour. From the moment he crawled out of the mountain range due east of National City, he’s been wreaking havoc on cars, buildings, palm trees, anything and everything that gets in his way. She should’ve had him contained by lunchtime. At first glance, he looked like he’d put up a decent fight, but this is getting ridiculous. He whizzes past her, wings a blur, and makes a beeline for the CatCo building. Letting out a deep sigh, Kara changes course and hears a click in her ear.

“ _Supergirl, you’ve got to get him out of the city._ ” J’onn’s voice throws her off balance in its intensity.

“I know! I’m working on it!” she shouts back, ducking down to cut off the alien’s path and missing him by inches.

He’s at least twelve feet long and covered in armor-like scales. He matches her in strength, and in speed in the air, and has successfully avoided every attempt she’s made at getting him to ground.

Ducking her outstretched arms again, he spins down toward the street and Kara sees her opening between two buildings. A quick burst of heat vision forces the alien west over the highway. Another blast of heat vision coupled with a quick burst of superspeed and Kara is finally able to push him out over the bay. He continues north, now more intent on evading her than destroying anything, and she presses after him.

“ _Supergirl, what is your location?_ ”

Alex’s voice is tinny under the roar of wind in Kara’s ears. She chances a glance at the passing coastline, just able to make out a familiar landmark or two as she speeds above the waves. Before she can answer her sister, the alien veers right toward a parking lot filled with beach-goers. Kara curves around him, pushing him back over the water.

“Looks like Capistrano, maybe?” The coastline starts to steer them further west. Kara can see the Channel Islands in the distance and makes a decision. “I’m gonna push him as far out as I can!”

“ _We won’t be – assist you in open water – an hour –”_

Alex’s voice fades to static as the reception breaks up. Kara frowns in determination as the alien aims for the cliffside—and the large house built into it—ahead of them. Kara recognizes the wide deck and bay windows instantly, and knows if she were just a few feet higher she’d easily be able to see the infinity pool that has graced the covers of at least a dozen magazines over the last ten years.

She sets her jaw and uses another burst of heat vision to turn the alien away from the house. He pulls up short and she slams into his back, grabbing hold of one of his wings. The other beats furiously against her as he tries to dislodge her and stay airborne at the same time, but he starts to spin out of control, off balance. Kara sees her opportunity and clambers onto his back, wrapping her upper body around his wing sheaths. He struggles frantically. She glances down at the churning sea and an idea forms quickly. She stops trying to keep them in the air, stops trying to float or fly and lets both of them drop like a stone into the ocean below.

The alien beneath her twists in one last attempt to get away, slamming her face-first into the water. Ice cold salt and foam are forced into Kara’s nose and mouth and she struggles to breathe, but as soon as they’re submerged, the alien’s thrashing falters and then stops completely as his body shrivels and shrinks. Kara lets go, pushing her way up as his body sinks away into the blue-green depths. She bobs to the surface, cape billowing behind her. Water pours from her nose and ears and she spits salt.

She pushes her hair out of her face with a shaking hand. Her head throbs and she’s slow to react as a swell breaks in her face. She ducks under the next one before pushing herself into the air. Her sodden cape and boots weigh her down awkwardly. She attempts a spin to dry herself enough to fly in a straight line, but her head swims and her stomach lurches and she almost drops back down into the sea below. She shakes some water out of her ear.

Her eyes catch sight of the shore and she begins to head toward it but stops just as quickly, hovering in midair when she notices movement from the house ahead of her. There, two figures side by side are waving her in. She watches them for a long moment before taking a deep breath and changing course. Only a moment later she’s landing ungracefully on Cat Grant’s back deck, Cat and Carter practically jumping back to avoid her dripping form.

“Supergirl! Are you okay?” Carter looks like he wants to dart forward, but is held in place by the strong grip of his mother’s hand on his shoulder.

Cat moves in front of her son, pushing him gently back toward the house. “Carter, go get our guest a towel. Supergirl, let me help you out of that cape.” Her tone leaves no room for argument and both Carter and Kara acquiesce.

Kara detaches her cape and Cat helps her drape it over the railing to dry. Kara tries to take off her left boot standing up, but when a wave of dizziness nearly topples her, firm hands direct her to sit on a nearby lounge chair. She sits gingerly on the edge, conscious of the salt water dripping from her suit ruining the expensive upholstery, and pulls off one boot at a time.

Carter returns a moment later with a fluffy beige towel, just as Kara’s phone pops out of the secret compartment in the right boot. The waterproof case Winn made for her thankfully kept it from being ruined and Carter picks it up for her, towel forgotten and worry on his face. Kara's dripping snot and sea water but she manages a smile for him.

"I'm alright, Carter." He looks at her, wide-eyed, and nods. She's suddenly self-conscious. "Um, I'll just..." She moves to stand, reaching up to pull her cape from the railing but Cat’s voice stops her.

"Nonsense, Supergirl. You can barely fly right now."

"I can fly, Cat, I can just fold the cape under my arm." Kara moves closer to the railing, dumping water out of the boot in her hand as she goes.

"Kara, don't be ridiculous."

Kara freezes, wide eyes locked on Cat's before they dart to Carter and back. She sputters out a "Miss Grant..." but can't form a sentence to follow it.

"Go shower the seaweed out of your hair and I'll find you something to wear." Cat stands in front of her, hands on her slim hips and eyebrow arched, daring Kara to defy her.

"But-"

"No buts, Kara.” Her eyes soften infinitesimally, but it’s enough for Kara’s shoulders to droop. “I'll talk to Carter. Go." She ushers Kara inside, taking her boots out of her hands.

Reluctantly, Kara hands over her boots and heads in through the French doors.

Cat turns to Carter. "Not a word, not to anyone."

"Mom, I would never!"

Kara smiles despite herself and picks her way through the spacious house, needing her x-ray vision to find the nearest shower. She enters the bathroom and takes in the slate tiles and recessed lighting. She fiddles with a dial on the wall, adjusting the lights and finding, to her delight, that it controls the heater in the floor as well. The shower itself is bigger than her whole bathroom and she blinks at the multiple jets and copious amount of designer body washes and shampoos. Her earpiece beeps once and then suddenly Alex’s voice breaks the spell she’s been under.

" _Kara, where are you? Are you alright? We've scrambled an extraction team, we just need a location_."

"I'm fine, Alex. I'm with... I'm safe." Kara presses her hand against the glass door of the shower and shakes her head at her reflection.

" _Kara..."_

"I'm okay, Alex. No extraction team. The bug couldn't handle his salt." Kara pauses, breathing in and out through her nose. Her sister deserves the truth. "I'm at Cat's beach house. Not on purpose,” she adds hastily at Alex’s quiet gasp. “But she's going to let me use her shower. I'm going to stay here at least until my suit is air-worthy." She receives nothing but tense silence from the other end of the call. "Get it? Like sea-worthy because I crash-landed in the ocean, but air-"

" _I get it_." Alex sounds annoyed. " _I get it, Kara. Just... call me later, okay_?"

Kara nods at her reflection and stands up straight. "I will."

Alex disconnects the call and Kara suddenly realizes she's been dripping all over Cat's bathroom floor. She peels out of her suit, her skin sticking to it where it’s begun to dry, and steps into the shower, the tile warm beneath her feet. She turns the water on and decides, as soon as the jets hit her chest, back, buttocks, and thighs simultaneously, that she’s never, ever leaving this shower.

She’s just rinsing the second round of shampoo out of her hair when there’s a knock at the door and then Cat is breezing into the room like Kara isn’t naked five feet away from her. The lower two-thirds of the shower door fogged over as soon as the water turned on, so Kara’s pretty sure Cat couldn’t see anything if she decided to look, but Kara’s arms automatically move to cover her chest anyway.

“These should fit you,” Cat says, placing a small pile of clothes on the countertop. “There will be hamburgers and fruit salad when you’re done, just come back out to the patio.”

Kara blinks shampoo out of her eyes and tries to form a response that isn’t incoherent sputtering, but Cat leaves as quickly as she came. After a moment of staring blankly at the closed door, the promise of dry clothes and food suddenly outweigh the luxury of Cat’s shower, and Kara rushes to finish washing and rinsing herself. She turns off the spray and instantly misses it. Without the steam and shampoo clouding her senses, however, she can smell barbecued beef and uses a bit of superspeed to dry herself and get dressed in the leggings and designer tank top Cat left for her. She towels off her hair and pulls it back into a hasty braid before picking her suit up off the floor and making her way back to the patio.

The smell of hamburgers on the grill nearly overpowers her as she reaches the back of the house, her stomach rumbling loudly. Carter is already half-way through his burger, fruit salad untouched on his plate, when Kara opens the glass doors and steps out into the afternoon sun. Cat sees her and is instantly moving, hands simultaneously taking the supersuit from Kara and pushing her down into a chair.

“Sit, eat. I’d imagine you’re starving after that little display.” She gestures vaguely in the direction of the ocean as she drapes Kara’s suit over the railing next to her cape.

“I’ll get it!” Carter is up and moving before Kara even realizes what he’s talking about, piling a plate high with two cheeseburgers and so much fruit that he can barely carry the plate without dropping grapes all over the deck. He sets the plate carefully in front of Kara and sits back down, watching her with something like awe.

“Thanks, buddy,” Kara murmurs before picking up her first burger. She takes a bite and has to hold back a moan at the flavor of charbroiled, probably organic and grass-fed beef and what she’s pretty sure is smoked gouda.

“What was that thing, anyway?”

Carter’s voice startles her out of her reverie. She chews and swallows and takes another bite, watching Carter pick at his hamburger bun. “And where did it go?”

“Carter…” Cat sits down next to Kara, warning in her tone.

Kara swallows her bite. “It’s alright.” She sets her burger down on her plate to give Carter her full attention. “I don’t know exactly what he was, to be honest.” Kara reaches for the glass of water in front of her, taking a long drink before continuing. “He came out of the mountains outside the city this morning and seemed hell-bent on wrecking downtown. I knew I had to get him away from so many people, so I pushed him over the bay and we ended up here. When we hit the water, he basically dried out. I guess his kind can’t handle the salt water.”

Carter’s eyes are as big as saucers as he absorbs her story. He swallows a bite of strawberry and whispers, “Cool.”

Kara picks up her burger but doesn’t eat it, watching the smile twitch on Carter’s face. She sighs and sets the burger down again. “Carter, do you understand why I have to keep my identity a secret?”

Carter shifts in his seat, smile faltering and his eyes dropping to the table. “My mom said it’s for your protection.”

A smile comes unbidden to Kara’s lips and her eyes dart to Cat next to her. “Yeah, that’s part of it,” she hedges, hoping he’ll come to some conclusions on his own.

He looks out to the ocean, face pensive as he watches the waves for a moment. He twirls a blueberry between his thumb and forefinger. It squishes a little and purple juice begins to stain his fingertips. “I guess it makes sense. If people know who you are, really, they’ll try to find your friends and family, too. And you’d never get to live a normal life. You’d be like a celebrity like my mom all the time, but with bad aliens coming for you, not just the paparazzi.”

Kara’s eyes flutter closed and she flattens her hands against the tabletop. When she looks back at Carter, he’s watching her curiously, blue eyes shining in the waning sunlight. Kara swallows around a lump in her throat and her mouth works for a moment as she tries to find the right words for this dear, smart boy in front of her. She can only nod for a long moment before finding her voice.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s exactly it, Carter,” she chokes out in a rush. She clears her throat and chances a glance at Cat again. The older woman is watching the ocean, her glass of water poised at her lips and reflecting sunlight into her eyes. Kara smiles. “That includes you and your mom, you know.”

Cat’s eyebrows rise a little at the admission, but she stays silent and contemplative.

“What does?”

Kara looks down at the tabletop, picking up her discarded burger once again. “The people I care about. The friends and family I want to keep safe.” She takes a bite of her food despite the flutter of nerves in her belly.

“Yes, well, we appreciate everything you do for us, and our city, Kara, but did you have to bring _that thing_ so close to my beach house? I just had the pool refinished.” Cat takes a sip of her water, a smirk tipping up the corners of her mouth as she stares out at the ocean.

Kara rolls her eyes but can’t hold back a smile of her own. She leans sideways and risks bumping her shoulder against the older woman’s. “Thanks for letting me borrow your shower. And feeding me.”

Cat picks up her fork and takes a bite of fruit, glancing sideways at Kara. “You’re welcome.”

They eat their food in silence for a few long moments, Kara all but inhaling her second burger, before Carter seems unable to hold still.

“Can Kara stay for the movie, Mom?”

Before she can think better of it, Kara blurts out, “Ooh, which movie?”

Cat scoffs and pushes her near-empty plate away. “ _Moana._ Again.” She levels her gaze at Kara and Carter in turn before coming to a decision. “Carter, go get the theater room ready while Kara and I clean up out here.”

He hops up with a fist pump and a whispered “ _yesss_ ” on his way into the house and Kara can’t help but laugh.

“I don’t have to stay, Cat, but I appreciate the invitation. My suit should be dry enough by now and I should really get back to my sister.”

Cat simply stares back at her, sunlight glinting gold in her eyes before she blinks, her eyebrows arching as she’s spurred into motion. She gathers the empty plates and cups from the table and keeps her back to Kara. “If you want to deprive my son of a movie night with his hero, you’ll be the one to tell him that.”

Kara feels her words like a slap to the face and huffs out a breath through her nose. She watches Cat, features schooled into practiced indifference, gather up the barbecue utensils and serving platters, and she decides Alex can wait. She stands and picks up her phone from the lounge chair where she had left it before her shower, sending a quick text to Alex not to wait up for her, and turns back to Cat.

“I’ve got these,” she murmurs, taking the plates from Cat’s hands.

A moment passes, Kara waiting for Cat to brush her off, and then Cat leads Kara into the house without a word. They silently load the dishes into the dishwasher together, Kara not-so-surreptitiously eating the leftover bits of food from their plates as they go. Once everything is suitably tidied and the dishwasher is humming, the make their way downstairs and into the theater room.

Carter waits at the edge of one sofa with the remote in his hand, the movie queued and ready to go on the projector screen against the opposite wall. Kara sits in the center of the sofa and Cat settles in next to her. Carter hits play and for the second time that day, Kara is enveloped by the open ocean, only this time, she’s warm and steady.


	10. hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The closer he gets, the further away he feels. (James & Clark, James/Kara, Cat/Kara pre-relationship)

Being best friends with Superman is _exhilarating._

Feet slap the pavement in quick steps, the sound echoing off the brick buildings lining the alley. If he can just get a little further— _there_.

A red and blue blur speeds across the intersection ahead of James and he clutches his camera tightly as he runs. He exits the alley just as Superman takes to the sky and he’s got the viewfinder at his eye and his finger pressing the shutter release before he can take a breath. He takes off down the street just as a crowd begins to form, their necks craning, voices ringing out as they try to catch a glimpse of the Man of Steel.

James leaves them in his wake, their cries of “ _It’s Superman! Look!_ ” echoing behind him.

He never sees the thing that tackles him. One minute he’s chasing after Clark, and the next he’s off his feet, a body as solid as a tank smashed into his side. He barely remembers to tuck and roll when they hit the ground. His back slams into the side of a parked car, the rubber of the rear tire breaking his fall to a degree, knocking the breath from his lungs.

His elbow and shoulder burn from sliding along the pavement and he’s blinking back tears when that red and blue blur speeds across his line of sight. Whatever had taken James off his feet is hauled bodily into the air and James can only watch in awe as Clark swings his arm and hurls the beast high above the skyscrapers, speeding after it in a wash of color.

Hands reach for him, pulling him to his feet. Voices he doesn’t know tell him he should go to the hospital, get his arm looked at, _can I call an ambulance for you, son_? James looks into the eyes of a middle-aged man just a few inches shorter than he is with eyes like his father. He blinks, frowning, shaking his head. “No, no, I’ll be alright.” His pulse is a jackhammer in his throat.

Clark touches down in the middle of the street and strides over to James. “Thank you, sir, for looking after my friend here.” He’s using his most pompous Superman voice, the one he thinks makes him sound older and dignified. He winks at James and James has to look away. The man lets go of James’ arm and Clark shakes his hand. Clark steers James by his good shoulder to the sidewalk and out of the man’s earshot.

“You okay, Jimmy? Did you get anything good?” he murmurs, gesturing at the camera still clutched in James’ hand. James had forgotten all about it. His elbow throbs.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I think I did.” He nods, more to himself than anything as another crowd begins to form. “Cover worthy.”

Clark flashes him a grin that’s all teeth and glittering blue eyes. “Great. See you back at the Planet,” he whispers, then turns to the crowd. “You know how it goes, folks: up, up, and away!” He’s airborne in a flash and James chuckles at how ridiculous it all is.

And he can’t wait to do it all again tomorrow.

After he gets his arm looked at.

\-----

“That’s it: I’m calling Superman.” James pushes back from the desk, his right hand going to the watch on his left wrist. Winn immediately reaches out and smacks his hand away.

“No, dude, you need to _relax._ Kara’s got this, just… give her a minute.” Winn types furiously, his fingers slapping the keyboard in a blistering rhythm that James can’t follow.

“You said that ten minutes ago when we lost audio, _dude_.”

Before Winn can reply, the view on the computer screen changes angles and suddenly Supergirl appears. She’s not much more than a blur on the black and white screen, but she’s intact and that’s enough for both men to breathe a little easier.

Winn sits back in his chair, hands reaching up to tug at his hair as his back audibly pops. “See? I told you, she’s—”

Winn’s voice falters as the screen goes staticky, the high-rise fire engulfing the hacked security camera. The screen flickers and then goes dark, and James is out of his chair.

“No no no no, she’s fine, big man, she’s fine. Right?” Winn is typing before he finishes his thought. “Fireproof is in her wheelhouse, okay? Right? That’s their deal?”

James just clenches his fists and begins pacing the small expanse of their commandeered office.

“I should be out there, I should be helping her.” He can feel his shoulders bunching with the bone-deep need to do _something_. He should be on the ground, in the thick of the action, danger be damned and—

“What, um, what would you do?”

James stops pacing at the timidity in Winn’s voice. He slumps back into his chair with a grumbled, “I don’t know.”

Winn’s typing slows as he turns to look at his friend, sympathy shining in his eyes. He purses his lips, but whatever he’s about to say is interrupted by crackling static coming through the speakers.

“ _Hey guys, fire’s out.”_ Kara’s voice comes through loud and clear. “ _What’s next?”_

Winn grins and James leans forward, turning the police scanner back on. He can’t keep the smile out of his voice. “Take a breather, Supergirl, we’ll find you something.”

\-----

The first time it happens is during their second official date. Kara looks stunning in a black and green dress and her hair pulled back in a bun. The soft lights in the restaurant make her skin glow and James can’t stop staring. He barely notices the wait staff, barely remembers the _food_ , but he clearly remembers the moment Kara’s smile falters.

She’s in the middle of telling him about the first time she watched her favorite movie when her hand twitches on the table top. He’s lost in her eyes and doesn’t notice her distraction until it happens again, and then she’s excusing herself to check her phone.

“I’m so sorry, James.” She’s a little bit breathless and the corners of her mouth turn down. “I have to go.” She doesn’t wait for a reply and she’s tugging her hair out of its bun as she rushes out the door.

He smiles stiffly at their server when she comes over with the dessert menu and a practiced look of sympathy.

“Family emergency.” The lie is easy, one he made countless times for Clark. “I’ll just take the check.” He doesn’t quite meet her eyes as he places his napkin over his plate.

\--

It happens again, frequently enough that if James didn’t know better he’d think Kara was making up excuses to avoid spending time with him.

He knows that’s crazy, that it’s just a little selfishness peeking through, but he can’t help the way it bubbles to the surface every time that contrite look washes over her face. Every time she pulls away from him.

“I have to go.”

The words ring like a bell around his head. He knows the way she rounds her shoulders and shakes out her hair as she walks away from him better than he knows the taste of her lips.

\--

“What is it now, another bank robbery?”

He’s trying not to let it get to him. He’s trying to take an interest. This city keeps Supergirl busy but he’s not going to let that deter him from spending time with his girlfriend.

“Bus crash on the bridge. I’m so sorry, James.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” He speaks without thinking, without looking at her. He can feel her eyes on him and heat creeps up his cheeks.

Her phone chimes again.

She sets it down on the coffee table and turns toward him, her shoulders stiff and her hands still. “James…”

“Look, I’m sorry, Kara.” His eyes flicker up to hers, and he sees the hurt in them, the creases pinching the corners behind her glasses.

He wishes she wouldn’t wear them when it’s just the two of them.

She sighs. “You know this is how it goes.”

He nods and clenches his jaw. “Yeah.”

“We’ll talk later, okay? When I get back?” Her blue eyes are bright and pleading and he can’t do anything but say yes.

He waits up for her ‘til the wee hours, watching the news until Supergirl lifting the bus from the edge of Otto Binder Bridge is no longer the top story.

His alarm wakes him up at 5:15 and his neck is stiff from sleeping on the couch. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he paws at his phone on the coffee table and knocks a piece of paper to the floor. He taps _snooze_ and wipes a hand down his face before sitting up. He picks up the paper and unfolds it, recognizing Kara’s handwriting in the dim light.

_Didn’t want to wake you. See you at the office! xoxo, Kara_

He shakes his head and stands up, stretching his forearms and shoulders one by one as he moves to the kitchen to start breakfast.

\-----

On a bright, sunny Thursday, James decides to be spontaneous. It’s been ages since he surprised Kara for lunch. She’s been chasing leads on a story about, well, he’s not sure, exactly, but it’s important enough that even Supergirl duties have been relegated back to the DEO and local authorities as much as possible.

He and Winn have been helping where they can, too. Not that Kara needs to know about that.

Sure, they're not officially dating anymore, but he’d hoped that her shift in priorities would mean that he’d get to see her more often. Unfortunately, she’s in the field more often than she’s not. And when she’s not, she seems more interested in the sage advice of their newly-returned CEO than anything else. Which is understandable, especially with this new story that practically dropped into her lap.

Still….

He knows Kara is in the building today, though, heard through the grapevine of Derek and Anna, resident gossips, that Snapper had pulled Kara aside for a meeting as soon as his danish was in his hands.

James looks for her first in the bullpen, and when he doesn’t find her there, he tries the little out-of-the-way office she mostly uses for clothes storage. Strike two. He has an idea of where she might be, and ignores the flip in his gut as he turns back down the hall.

He strides into the organized chaos of the fortieth floor open plan with sweaty palms, nods at Eve as he passes her desk, and stops short. On the other side of the glass walls, he sees Kara sitting on one of the white couches, full attention on the other person in the room. Their knees are angled toward each other, practically touching. The little flip in his gut grows, churning uncomfortably when Kara says something he can’t hear, more animated than he’s seen her act in weeks and the hand she’s gesturing with lands on her companion’s knee, and to James’ surprise, it stays there. If anything, Cat Grant leans in closer.

“Did you need something, Mister Olsen?”

Something in Eve’s tone sets his teeth on edge, like she knows what he’s thinking. He blinks and clears his throat. “Uh, no. Um, actually, yeah—do you know how long they’ll be?” He glances at Eve. She stares up at him expectantly. “I was going to take Kara to lunch.”

Eve smiles, sympathy softening her eyes. “I’m not sure, but Miss Grant asked me to clear her afternoon when Miss Danvers arrived about an hour ago.”

“An hour.” The words come out unbidden, disbelief leveling his tone.

“You might want to take a rain check on your lunch date. I’ve already placed an order at Noonan’s for them.”

Heat rises in James’ face and he can feel his neck flush under his collar. He can’t help the glare he directs Eve’s way, but she’s already focused back on her work. He understands the dismissal instantly, and embarrassment slips down his spine.

James chances one last look into Cat’s office, watching long enough to see Cat lead Kara out to her private balcony, the conversation still flowing easily between them. He turns away before they disappear from his view.


	11. hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The antidote to the red Kryptonite might have worked quickly, but Kara and Alex's relationship is forever altered. (Danvers sisters, genfic)

_Tap tap crack._

_Tap tap crack._

Sunlight warms her left side as Alex blinks awake. Metal clanks against glass, soft and tinny, and she lays still, trying to place the sound.

She feels more than hears a body moving across the kitchen.

Someone is in her apartment.

She considers reaching for the weapon she keeps in her nightstand.

_Tickticktickwhoosh._

Her brain sputters on the sounds, still half-asleep. A headache is already forming behind her right eye, a starburst of pain when she blinks up at the ceiling.

She squints.

Someone is _cooking_ in her apartment.

Something splatters to, presumably, the floor, and the someone in her kitchen mutters a Kryptonese curse word.

Of course.

“Kara?”

All sound, all movement in the kitchen ceases in an instant. Alex counts the seconds in her head.

_Three… two… one._

“Alex, hey.” Kara’s voice lacks the exuberance Alex would normally expect, even first thing in the morning. It’s soft, and hesitant, even as she approaches the bed, and no matter what she said to her sister yesterday, Alex does not want to have this conversation _now_.

Not so soon, not when she hasn’t had time to process the words her sister said to her just a day ago. Not when the wounds to her heart are still so raw.

“I’ll put on some coffee.”

It’s not what Alex expects Kara to say, but she’s grateful that Kara moves back to the kitchen. Her arms are heavy at her sides and she closes her eyes, counts to ten, and then sits up and swings her legs out of bed in one fluid motion.

Padding to the bathroom, her mind trips over everything she should be doing. She’s only been home for maybe three hours, but she needs to get back to the DEO, she needs to get J’onn out of lockdown and away from whatever the military is going to throw at him. She needs to be level-headed when Non eventually reappears to finish whatever he started.

There’s a knock on the door, soft and tentative. She wonders how hard it is for her sister to temper her strength that much. Especially after yesterday.

“I made eggs, when you’re ready.”

Alex’s stomach churns.

“Okay.”

It’s automatic. _Speak when spoken to. Appease your sister, she’s been through too much._ But it takes effort for Alex to splash water on her face, run a comb through her hair. She avoids her reflection and opens the door, expecting Kara to be hovering right on the other side.

Instead, she finds her sister across the apartment sitting at the breakfast bar, two plates of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. There’s also a steaming mug of coffee waiting for Alex. Kara’s head is down, eyes on her plate but Alex isn’t sure she’s actually seeing anything. Her elbow is on the table, fork in hand, but her plate looks untouched.

Alex crosses the room and sits down slowly across from her sister. She takes the coffee with both hands, feeling its heat through the ceramic mug. She watches her sister and takes a sip. It’s too hot and scalds her tongue, but she takes another sip anyway. Her head throbs. Kara still hasn’t touched her food.

Alex looks down at her own eggs and grimaces at the sight of the congealing cheese on top. The toast is probably cold by now and the thought of eating it turns her stomach.

Kara sighs and lets her arm drop to the table. She pushes her plate away and leans back, looking somewhere past Alex’s head.

“I don’t know how to do this.”

Alex holds her breath and sets her coffee down. The room is still and tense and Alex closes her eyes.

“I don’t know how to apologize or explain the things I said yesterday, the things I _did_.” The fork in her hand clatters to the table, making Alex jump at the sound. “But I’m sorry I hurt you, Alex. I’m sorry, and I get it if you hate me now.”

Alex frowns, shaking her head without really registering the motion. Her voice is thick when she speaks.

“I don’t hate you, Kara.” She swallows compulsively at the hot lump in her throat. “I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.” Tears sting her eyes and she blinks up at the ceiling. She’s still shaking her head. “But I can’t talk about this right now.”

Alex sucks in a breath, her throat ragged, and stands up. “I have to get back, I have to make sure J’onn is gonna be okay.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I understand.” Kara clears her throat and stands up, too. Alex moves to her dresser and pulls out fresh clothes. The sounds of a scraping fork on ceramic, of water running and harsh scrubbing carry through the apartment as Kara cleans up their dishes of uneaten food.  

Alex dresses in a rush, barely lacing her boots, pausing only when her hand is on the doorknob. She looks back at her sister, cleaning things that don’t need to be cleaned in her kitchen. She rubs her forehead and opens her mouth, willing the right words to come out.

“You’ll be at the DEO later?”

Kara looks up at her, surprise clear in her blue eyes, and nods. “Yeah, I—yeah. I’ll be there.”

Alex nods once and turns the knob. She walks out the door and into the hallway without a glance back.


	12. clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things have to be learned through memorization and disciplined study. Other things can only be learned through experience. (Danvers sisters, genfic)

Gravity feels different on this planet. Kara has a difficult time keeping her feet on the ground. The air is different, too, denser than Krypton. She can feel the fluidity of the atmosphere, can practically taste the oxygen and nitrogen with every inhalation. Everything feels closer, more tangible on Earth. Even the clouds. _Especially_ the clouds.

Kara knows she isn’t supposed to go flying. Jeremiah says it could be dangerous if someone sees her. Eliza worries she’ll get lost. Alex doesn’t seem to care either way, but she always says yes when Kara asks if she wants to come along. But when she’s alone, and the house feels too small and the stars seem too far away, Kara sneaks out of her bedroom window and slips into the night.

She knows that clouds are nothing but water vapor condensed in warm air pockets, but when she can feel every molecule on her skin and in her lungs, when they cling to her clothes and in her hair and it’s so unlike anything she’s ever experienced, she gets lost in the sensation. She can drift through coastal fog as it rolls across the bay and forget, for just a little while, that her home is gone.

\-----           

“Cumulonimbus. Mmm… altocumulus. Cirrus. That one’s easy.” Kara pushes the pictures across the dining table and crosses her arms, waiting for Alex to reshuffle them for the next quiz.

Alex takes the picture cards and rearranges the stack in her hands, pulling out three more with a careful eye. Her right eyebrow quirks in challenge and she resists the urge to smirk.

“Okay, try these.”

She lays three more pictures flat and face down on the table, sliding them across to Kara at a dramatically slow pace. Kara flips them over in turn, studying each one before attempting to identify them. The first looks like a thin sheet of ice in the sky.

“Cirrocumulus,” Kara nods definitively.

The second cloud formation looks like bubbles or pockets. Kara frowns at it, trying to commit the sight of it to memory. She’s never seen clouds like that before. She looks to the third, and her frown deepens.

The clouds in the third photo look like wide, deep discs at the top of a mountain. Kara is sure she’s never seen those before, but if Alex is quizzing her on them, they must be something worth knowing for her science test.

She swallows reflexively. The wind outside jostles the chimes hanging above the back door. Her ears prick at their melodic tinkling. A gull calls from somewhere above the roof, harsh and incessant, and Kara squeezes her eyes shut at the onslaught.

She can recite Krypton’s atomic mass, the names of all four of its moons, their properties, and the dates of Xenon’s and Wegthor’s destruction.

She can give a full history of Krypton’s red sun and the properties of the atmospheres of all seven of its planets.

She learned calculus as a small child.

None of that helps her here.

Earth’s cloud formations are escaping her and she feels loss and frustration building in a hot lump in her throat. She has never once heard someone, not even Jeremiah or Eliza, use the proper name of a cloud in common conversation.

She could tell her science teacher what each of these clouds feel like based on the temperature and density of the water vapor making each formation. She could take Alex by the collar and show her what each of these clouds _tastes_ like.

But none of that is useful, none of that will help her pass her test or pass as human or fit in with Alex’s friends. There is nothing to _learn_ in this lesson beyond some words on a piece of paper that she’ll forget about in a week.

The things Kara needs to know aren’t things anyone here can teach her. Eliza can measure the force of her grip but can’t teach her how to temper it. Alex can keep her from getting overwhelmed at school but can’t teach her how to make friends.

She has to concentrate, her brain calculating rapid-fire, to keep her hands from crushing the edge of the table. A soft, warm hand presses between her shoulder blades and Kara’s eyes flutter at the soft murmur of Eliza’s voice.

“Mammatus and lenticular clouds will not be on Kara’s test tomorrow, Alex.” Eliza squeezes Kara’s shoulder and reaches out with her other hand to flip the two offending photos over. “That’s enough studying for now, girls. Why don’t you both wash up and I’ll make you lunch.” She moves into the kitchen and Kara pushes her chair back to stand.

“Just because they’re not on the test doesn’t mean they aren’t worth knowing,” Alex mutters, following Kara into the bathroom.

Alex’s words sound an awful lot like Kara’s thoughts. “What do you mean?” Kara turns on the faucet and wets her hands, mind wandering for a moment back to water molecules.

Alex scoffs and shoves her hands under the faucet to wash them. “Not everything you learn is gonna come from a textbook. Some things you just have to learn for yourself, just because, otherwise what’s the point?”

Kara frowns, drying her hands on a towel. The terrycloth scrapes across her palms. “But isn’t that what your Earth school wants? Us to know what’s in the textbooks?”

“It’s just called ‘school,’ weirdo, and yeah, they want us to memorize everything in the books for all their stupid tests, but they also want us to be ‘well-rounded,’” Alex uses air quotes and rolls her eyes to emphasize her point, “so that we stand out when we all start applying to go to college.”

Kara sets the towel down on the sink and studies a spot on the wall where the tile meets the counter. A little bit of caulking is smeared against the corner tile, making the spot look uneven. She tries to follow back along what Alex has just said. “So if I learn about clouds that aren’t on the test, I’ll be well-rounded?”

Alex sighs dramatically and walks out of the bathroom. “No, but if you learn stuff for fun you might be. And don’t just start talking about clouds around people like you do with birds. It’s weird.”

Kara isn’t sure she understands, but she follows Alex back down the stairs without a word. Eliza hands them each a plate with a sandwich and an apple. Alex sits down at the dining table without so much as a second glance at Kara. Kara decides to take her lunch out to the porch. She sits on the swing and watches the sky as she eats.

Wisps of clouds follow each other high in the sky. Kara takes off her glasses and lets her vision stretch, sees the light of the sun diffracting through the curling trails of water vapor. Tiny rainbows that only she can see litter the sky. If she closes her eyes, she can feel the ice crystals forming the clouds melt against her skin.

“Cirrus,” she whispers, smiling softly to herself.


	13. past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Carter turned two years old, Cat Grant had only missed work twice in her life. Cat Grant loves her sons. (Cat & Carter, genfic)

Before Carter turned two years old, Cat Grant had only missed work twice in her life, and both were planned ahead.

She had perfect attendance from Kindergarten through college: her mother wouldn’t allow for anything less. That diligence persisted into the working world. It was second nature to Cat to show up, on time or early, every day. She didn’t know how her (excellent, clearly) work would get done otherwise.

Rank didn’t matter much to her when it came to proving herself. When she was a cub reporter, green but driven, she showed up. When she acquired the National City Tribune and struck out on her own, she showed up. She worked through illness, including a two-month battle with pneumonia when she was thirty-seven, she worked through personal trauma, she worked into the third trimester of both of her pregnancies.

As driven as she was, as she has always been, she barely paused for Adam’s birth. Although she had a hospital room reserved and ready to go a week before she was due, Adam wouldn’t wait for her deadline and she nearly had him on the floor of the bullpen at the Daily Planet.

Cat was back to work within a week, editing articles and chasing down leads on the phone from Adam’s nursery.

His father left her just before Adam’s second birthday and still, Cat barely paused.

When Carter came along, she made sure to take more time with him, in all respects of his care.

He was born on a Thursday. His brilliant blue eyes matched the afternoon sky perfectly and Cat couldn’t wait to take him out of the hospital and show him the world. His father was in Metropolis on a business trip. He sent a text between meetings and Cat could only seethe, quiet and still so as not to wake the baby.

_Sorry I won’t make it, Cat, this merger is a bitch. Send a pic. I’ll see him soon enough._

Cat understood deep in her bones why Adam’s father left her.

\-----

The third time Cat Grant missed work was different.

Carter was two years old and his nanny had taken him to his pediatrician for a routine checkup. Cat was locked in a meeting with the Tribune’s editors and CatCo’s financial advisors. Carter’s father was on business in Europe. He’d been away on business for most of Carter’s life and Cat had a divorce lawyer on retainer.

Cat’s assistant had taken an urgent message from the front desk. The look on his face when he returned gave Cat as much information as she needed to postpone the rest of the meeting. She was in a car on the way to the pediatrician’s office five minutes later.

The doctor gave Cat every reassurance that Carter was fine, but she had concerns. The words _specialist, child psychologist, preliminary diagnosis_ rang in Cat’s ears as she cradled her sweet boy in her arms. Carter blinked up at her with his blue, blue eyes and tucked his head against her chest.

Carter was special, she knew that. He started speaking near-full sentences when he was only ten months old, for chrissakes. But he was also so shy around others, children and adults alike, and his attention lingered to the point of fixation on the things he liked and wanted. He hit every developmental benchmark on time or early, just like his mother, except when it came to socialization and communication.

Cat knew this. She didn’t need a doctor to spell it out for her, but once she did, Cat knew she could no longer deny that her son needed more specialized care if she wanted him to function and grow in a cruel, unforgiving world.

So she took him home and gave the nanny the rest of the day off and cancelled her meetings. She spent the afternoon calling the specialists the pediatrician had recommended and she played with her son, made him his favorites for lunch and dinner.

She called her assistant and the board chair and told them not to expect her in the office for the rest of the week. Their stuttered shock was less satisfying than she’d expected and she spent most of the first morning working from her home office, Carter playing quietly at her feet.

She took a break every time he brought her a toy to share.

She took the rest of the day off when he held eye contact for full seconds and only turned away in a fit of giggles.

Cat took the next two days to meet Carter’s new doctors, and after each meeting she took him to the park to feed the ducks. Cat spent every moment with her beautiful boy knowing she would do everything in her power to help him succeed, no matter what that success looked like.


	14. anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This might be the stupidest thing he's done, but it's been a year and that has to mean something. (Cat and Adam, genfic)

His fingers tap a staccato beat on the top of the desk as he waits to be checked in. The lobby of the CatCo building bustles with activity and he strains to take it all in. A few vaguely familiar faces drift by on their way in and out. Reporters, he thinks, or maybe editors.

It doesn’t matter: they pay him no mind and he never learned their names. They’re not why he’s here.

The security guard clears her throat and his head swivels back in her direction, distracted smile already in place.

“Keep your visitor’s badge visible at all times and check in with me when you leave.” She hands him the aforementioned badge and his ID, and he signs the electronic visitor log with a bit of a flourish.

“Thanks.” He smiles again and swipes the visitor’s badge through the reader in front of him. He pushes through the turnstile and all but runs to the elevator bank. The first elevator that comes is blissfully empty and he rushes inside, jamming the _door close_ button with his thumb before pressing the button for the fortieth floor a little more gently.

It’s taken him weeks to plan this surprise, getting the timing right, making sure he had the vacation time available at work, swallowing his pride and contacting Kara Danvers to make sure Cat would even be in National City.

They’ve been texting, exchanging emails, even a phone call here and there when they both have the time free. And they’ve both been making time. Cat has no idea he’s coming, and as far as he can tell, has no recollection that this day is anything special. Other than birthdays, she didn’t seem to be the type to cling to dates for sentimentality’s sake.

She’ll remember this date after today, of that he is sure.

He clutches the bouquet in his hand a little tighter as the elevator slows to a stop at the fortieth floor. The doors slide open with a muted _ding_ and he enters the bullpen with his head up. He strides purposefully towards the glass walls of her office but is stopped by an alarmed and unfamiliar woman.

“Excuse me, do you have an appointment?” They both know he doesn’t. He tries to play it cool.

“You must be Eve. Kara’s told me a lot about you.” He smiles without making eye contact, looking over Eve’s head and into the office beyond.

Cat has her back to the bullpen, hand on hip, glasses dangling from her fingertips. Grainy footage of Supergirl putting out a forest fire plays on every monitor he can see.

“That’s nice of her, but you still don’t have an appointment and Miss Grant is a very busy woman.” Eve raises her voice just enough to start drawing attention. He sees a security guard moving toward them from the corner of his eye but he isn’t deterred.

Cat turns, as if feeling eyes on her, and her own go wide.

“She’ll want to see me,” he murmurs, attention completely on the woman in the next room.

She moves across her office without taking her eyes off him, Supergirl all but forgotten behind her. “Adam?” There’s a little something like awe in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Everything alright, Miss Grant?” The security guard has just reached them, hand on his radio and concern in his voice. Cat barely blinks at him.

“Yes, yes, Marcus, everything is fine.” She dismisses him with a wave of her hand. “Miss Teschmacher, don’t you have work to be doing?” Adam tries and fails to stifle a laugh at the affronted look on Eve’s face. When that look changes to a very pointed glare directed his way, he swallows and follows his mom into her office, head hanging in apology.

“Close the door, dear.” Adam does as he’s told, watching as Cat flits to the balcony door, then to the sofas in the middle of the room, then to her desk. “Can I offer you a drink? Or are you hungry? I can have lunch ordered or—”

“Cat, I’m fine. Here.” He thrusts the bouquet in her direction, reaching over the low table between them.

“I—thank you,” she murmurs, taking the flowers with both hands. She stares at him for a moment and he smiles. He realizes it’s up to him to assuage her nerves, that his surprise has worked but she is completely out of her depth, at least for the time being.

Still, he decides to play coy. “I’m guessing you don’t know what today is?” The brief look of panic that flashes across her eyes tells him what he already knows. His smile grows. “Can we sit?” he asks, rounding the table and gesturing at the sofa behind her.

Cat sits quickly, only then seeming to catch herself. “Of-of course, sit, please.” She sets the flowers on the table and angles her body to face him, patting the cushion. “I wish I could say I do know what today is, but I’m afraid you have me at a loss.”

Adam settles next to her and lets out a slow breath. The smile never leaves his face when he tells her, “It’s our anniversary.” He sees the lost look on her face, can practically hear her mind working overdrive to figure him out, and decides to just plow ahead. “You, or, well, I guess it was Kara, wrote me that letter and we had that disastrous first dinner together about a year ago. But exactly one year ago today, Cat, we…” he trails off, unable to hold her gaze in a suddenly overwhelming moment.

He looks back up at the screen, at Supergirl’s soot-covered but smiling face, and takes another breath. “We finally reconciled our relationship, and agreed to start over, and I… I thought that was something worth celebrating.”

When Cat doesn’t reply right away, his heart sinks. Embarrassed heat floods his cheeks and he’s just begun to wonder where he read the situation so wrong when Cat reaches between them and grips his hand in his lap. He looks up at her, takes in the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks and the wobbly smile on her lips and can’t help the surprised laugh that bursts from his chest. He pulls her into a hug and laughs again at the surprised _oof_ she makes.

“Sorry, sorry, I—”

“No, no.” Cat grips his hand even harder. “Thank you, Adam, this is a lovely surprise, and this is certainly a day worth celebrating.”

“Can I take you to lunch, then?” Adam asks, quickly. “I asked Kara to check your schedule for me, and unless something has changed since I got off the plane this morning, you should be free?”

Cat raises an eyebrow at that but doesn’t comment. Her eyelids flutter and she purses her lips for just a moment before standing, pulling him up with her. “Lunch would be perfect. Let me just call us a car and gather my purse.”

Adam watches his mom with fascination as she prepares to leave. When she’s ready, he holds out his elbow for her to take and they exit the office in tandem.

“Miss Teschmacher, clear my afternoon,” Cat throws over her shoulder as they make their way to her private elevator. “Oh, and put my flowers in some water, would you?”

Cat taps her phone and the elevator opens for them. Adam looks over at her as they step inside.

“You know,” he starts as the doors slip closed, “you could be a little nicer to your assistants. They work hard for you.”

She glances up at him out of the corner of her eye, pursing her lips again. “Is that so?”

Adam just hums noncommittally. She’s heard this before.

“I’ll consider it. Now, where are you taking me to lunch?”


	15. close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara has sworn a duty to protect her adoptive planet and everyone on it. (Cat/Kara)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to [house](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095031/chapters/28904040).

The rhythm of the waves crashing against the cliff sounds distant and far away, as if the darkness surrounding the deck has muffled it somehow. Kara sips at her drink, stretching her sight to take in nebulas and comets and distant planets in the night sky. Cat shifts next to her, leaning forward to refill her tumbler. Kara breathes in deeply, the spices of the alcohol mingling with Cat’s perfume and the sea breeze, and she thinks it could almost be romantic if the circumstances were different.

Cat shifts again, settling in her seat, and sips at her scotch. Kara turns her gaze away from the stars and watches as Cat seems to come to a decision. Cat has been contemplative since dinner, paying little attention to the movie they watched with Carter. Kara has been expecting some discussion of her arrival at Cat’s beach house earlier that evening, but Cat seemed to need time to sort through it all. Now, she takes a fortifying breath, keeping her eyes trained on the unseen horizon as she voices her thoughts.

“This seems like it’s becoming somewhat of a pattern—alien of unknown origin comes out of the depths of the mountains to goad you into a fight, only to commit suicide some hours later.” It’s the first thing either of them have said in almost an hour, both content to listen to the evening sounds after Carter had fallen asleep.

It sounds like a question, one that Kara isn’t sure how to answer. She opts for truth, at least as much as she’s able to give. “I know,” she acquiesces. “We’re… looking into it.”

Cat’s eyebrows lift at the admission and she sets her drink down on the deck. “Mm, ‘we’ being your sister and the black-clad government agents who seem to swarm every crime scene you’re a part of, I presume?”

She turns toward Kara, watching her carefully. Kara squirms under the scrutiny.

“That is… more accurate than they’d like you to be, but yes. Alex and her team are working on figuring this out.”

“And meanwhile you exhaust yourself fighting every battle that comes your way?” Cat asks pointedly.

Kara’s back straightens and she raises her chin. “I have a duty to protect this city, this _planet_.”

Cat nods, seeming to accept that, before picking up her drink again and looking out at the black expanse of open water before them. She sips thoughtfully for a few moments and Kara is content to let her.

When Cat finally speaks again, her voice is wistful, but with a warning laced in her tone. She doesn’t look at Kara, but at that something in the middle distance only she can see. “Years before you arrived, Superman fought against something the Daily Planet dubbed ‘The Annihilator.’ Giant, ghastly thing. Your cousin nearly died trying to defeat it, and it seemed all it wanted was to destroy everything in its path.”

She pauses, looking down at the drink in her hand, gently swirling the amber liquid. “But before it even appeared, Metropolis was plagued by strange beasts seeming to want nothing more than to create mayhem. Now, it could just be a coincidence, or it could mean that something more powerful than you can imagine is fighting its way to National City.”

Cat looks up at her then, something unreadable in her eyes. Kara exhales heavily through her nose, nodding her head. Kal-El has told her this story before, parts of it at least, and it’s been weighing heavily on her mind.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

“No, I didn’t think you would.”

“I can’t predict what threats I’ll face, Cat, I can only take each fight as they come,” Kara says softly. The drink still clutched between her hands is long-forgotten and she sets it aside, turning to face the other woman more fully. She takes Cat’s hand.

“The little things, robberies and car crashes and forest fires, those I know how to handle now. But if this is another Annihilator, or Myriad….” She shakes her head and squeezes Cat’s hand gently. She can’t keep the pleading tone out of her voice.

“No matter how big the risk, I have to try and protect this city and the people I care about. I know I can’t ask this of you, not until we know for certain what we’re facing, but if history is repeating itself, I need to know you and Carter will be safe.”

“Kara…”                 

“I know, Cat, I know you don’t run from a fight, but if this turns out to be as dangerous as we fear, I can’t be distracted worrying that the people I love are in harm’s way.”

Cat gasps, her eyes slipping shut for just a moment before she shakes her head. Her gaze is steely when it falls on Kara again. “And what of your sister? What of James Olsen and the little IT hobbit? What puts my son and me above your friends?”

Kara smiles but there’s no humor in it. “Alex and Winn work for that black-clad government agency that doesn’t exist on paper – they’ll be right there on the front lines with me. And James… as much as I wish he didn’t, James has a suit of his own, and he’s made his own choices about where he’ll be at the end of the world.”

Kara’s words hang in the air between them as Cat sits up a little straighter. Her voice is tense and her hand, trapped between both of Kara’s, clutches at Kara’s wrist. “The end of the world?”

“I didn’t mean…. Hopefully that is an over-exaggeration on my part, but the fact remains that I can’t protect everyone.” Kara wants to look away at the intensity in Cat’s eyes, but she keeps her gaze steady.

Cat leans away from her, shoulder pressing into the backrest of the lounger, and she stares right back. “And how far away would you deem a safe distance for Carter and I to run?”

Calculations of time and distance roll through Kara’s head and none of it seems like enough. She smiles sadly. “Your apartment in Paris wouldn’t be out of the question.” It would buy some time if there was a large-scale attack, but that’s all. Kara wishes she could be more optimistic.

Cat’s eyes widen just enough to be noticeable at the admission and Kara moves closer to the edge of her chair.

“I feel the need to repeat myself, but what puts me above your friends, the rest of the city?”

Kara takes a breath, and then another. “Because I can’t do this, any of this, without you, Cat. I’ve lost people my entire life. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing I’ve ever truly been good at. I can accept that I can’t save everyone in National City, but if I lost you, knowing I could prevent it? I wouldn’t survive it.”

She leans into the last of the distance between them, and brushes her lips gently against Cat’s. It’s a brief, fleeting kiss, over before it’s really started, but it’s enough to bring tears to Cat’s eyes.


	16. blocked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie is hurt and there's nothing Kara can do but wait. (Kara & Maggie, genfic)

National City General shines like a beacon in the inky black night. Kara flies as fast as she dares, clutching tightly to the body in her arms. The flashing red and white lights of an ambulance below match the heartbeat pounding in her ears. She lands gently, so gently, at the front entrance, and then she’s running. The automatic doors slide open and Kara races into the emergency room lobby.

“I need some help here!” Her voice cracks. She thinks if she could, she might throw up.

The body in her arms grows limp. She can still hear Maggie’s heart beating erratically in her chest, struggling to maintain its rhythm. It’s too fast, too weak, and the sound of it echoes in her ears and spurs her forward to the intake desk.

A nurse she recognizes from countless rescues hurries out from behind the desk, pulling the stethoscope from around her neck as she moves. Kara shifts Maggie in her arms, expecting the nurse to check her vitals, but the other woman simply says, “follow me,” and keeps going, past the waiting room and into a wide hallway. Kara follows obediently through alarmed double doors labeled “Trauma Bay” in big block letters, and the nurse directs Kara to an empty bed. The nurse is shouting “I need some hands in here!” as Kara lays Maggie down as gently as she can. The PA system crackles and squeals to life and Kara winces at the loud, fuzzy voice overhead.

“Trauma in the slot. Trauma in the slot.”

The tone is entirely too calm, too routine, and Kara just wishes they would hurry up already.

The nurse is asking Kara questions but Kara can’t focus. She hears bodies moving, rubber soles squeaking on linoleum, carts being rolled on ungreased wheels, voices getting louder. She can’t hear Maggie’s heartbeat anymore and panic rises in her throat.

Suddenly, the room is filled with hospital staff – doctors in lab coats and nurses in scrubs. They’re all talking, orders are being given.

“Supergirl, I need you to focus. What. Happened?”

Kara does focus, just not on the doctor in front of her. She zeroes in on another doctor actually helping Maggie, calling orders to the staff around her, and Kara tries to follow what they’re doing.

“Kelly, I want her naked, right now. Marcus, you’re on the ABCs. Rosa, I need the biggest line you can get me. Draw a CBC, BMP, a type and screen, and call for a massive transfusion protocol.”

Kara blanches. There isn’t any blood, but as the nurse strips away Maggie’s clothes, Kara can see a large, purple bruise covering her torso. She tries to push her way forward, closer to Maggie, only to find her path blocked. “And get me a gram of TXA. Kimesha, I need a FAST exam and an A-line in the subclavian, please,” she hears just as she realizes she’s being edged toward the doors.

Before Kara knows it, the doctor from before, the one asking her the same questions as the nurse had, has slowly but methodically pushed her out of the room. She blinks and plants her feet. The doctor nearly walks into her, but it’s enough of a change that she can focus on what they need to help Maggie.

Maggie, who is lying on a gurney being hooked up to machines and IVs. Maggie, whose bright eyes haven’t opened in too long, whose chest isn’t rising and falling on its own.

“She was hit,” Kara hears herself saying. “She’s a detective with the NCPD and we were on a scene together downtown. She was hit in the stomach.”

“How long ago?” The doctor’s voice is tight, his words clipped. Kara clenches her jaw and looks away from Maggie. He steps back a half-step when her eyes meet his.

“No more than five minutes. He hit her and she just went down.”

“Hit her with what?” A nurse hurries over and hands the doctor a tablet. He swipes through it, splitting focus, and Kara feels herself losing her grip on what little control she has left.

“His _fist,_ ” she insists, her voice like gravel, and he looks up at her again with surprise in his eyes.

Kara stares back at him, eyebrows raised, daring him to question her. She can still hear the sickening sound of the alien’s fist colliding with Maggie’s midsection, can still see how Maggie crumpled like a ragdoll. She hopes the DEO has contained him by now, that the blast of heat vision she hit him with was enough to subdue him for J’onn and his team. Her only consolation is that Alex is in Washington DC on a special assignment for the President and wasn’t there to see her wife get hurt.

“Does she have any medical conditions or allergies we should know about?”

The question throws Kara—she was expecting a fight, not routine history. She’s shaking her head no before her brain has even caught up with the question. “I don’t—I don’t think so?” She hates that she sounds so insecure, but she can’t think past the noise and chaos in the room.

The doctor reaches up and rests a hand on her shoulder in what she’s sure is supposed to be a comforting gesture. All Kara can think about is that he’s too busy talking to her to help her sister-in-law. But then he’s pushing on her shoulder, encouraging her to turn and she lets him, doesn’t want to hurt him, and he’s telling her they’ll do everything they can but she has to wait outside.

Another nurse is waiting for her just past the double doors. He steers her back to the intake desk.

“Is there something I can do? Are there forms to fill out, or—or where can I stay to wait for her?” The nurse gives her a curious look that Kara isn’t expecting.

“Are you family?” he asks gently, like he might know the answer already. It’s then she realizes that she isn’t here as Maggie’s sister-in-law, that Supergirl isn’t anything more than an occasional colleague to the detective and has no business filling out hospital forms. She looks back to the double doors.

“I—no, I’m… not.”

“Do you know her family? Someone we can call for her?”

Kara realizes again that Alex is across the country, that Alex needs to be focused on her assignment, and Kara will do anything to keep this panic from touching her sister if she can. She clenches her jaw and nods at the nurse. “I know her family. I can get to them faster than you can call.”

\--

It takes everything in her to return to the hospital at a human pace. She left in a rush, close to breaking the sound barrier in part for effect and in part to release some of the stress from her body. But coming back as Kara Danvers, in jeans and a button-down, rushing but still _so slow_ , is frustrating on a level Kara didn’t know existed before now. She made sure to take her time when she got home to do things right. She has the medical proxy forms Alex made her sign when they got married. She called J’onn on the way to make sure the alien had been contained, that no one else had been hurt. She has a change of clothes and toiletries for Maggie, chargers for her phone and tablet, snacks and a bottle of water. Now she just needs Maggie to be okay.

The clerk at the intake desk directs her to the surgical unit on the other end of the hospital when she asks for Maggie by name. She smiles her thanks and clenches her jaw and walks. She’s harried and frustrated by how slow everything moves, nearly smashes the elevator button to pieces in her haste, and by the time she gets to the right floor in the right wing, her patience is razor thin.

The clerk staffing the front entrance to the surgical ward is less than accommodating.

“What do you mean, I can’t see her? I’m family! _And_ her medical proxy… thingy!” Kara shakes the notarized papers for effect. The clerk just smiles at her with practiced sympathy.

“Ma’am, she’s still in surgery.”

“Yeah, I get that, but can’t you at least tell me how she’s doing?” Kara thinks maybe she should’ve taken J’onn up on his offer to come with her.

The clerk shakes her head again. “I’m sorry, no, you’ll have to wait for a doctor for that.” Before Kara can even open her mouth, the clerk holds up a hand. “And no, I don’t know how long that will be. Please, ma’am, if you’ll just have a seat in the waiting area, we’ll call you up as soon as anything changes.”

Kara huffs, her shoulders slumping in defeat, but she takes the proffered clipboard and pen, and finds a seat as close to the desk as she can manage. She fills out the forms as best she can, trying to go slowly in the hopes that something would change in the meantime. When she returns the clipboard and forms, however, the clerk takes them without a word, gesturing for her to sit back down.

The waiting is agony. She stretches her hearing into the surgical wing, listening for Maggie, for a familiar doctor’s voice, but all she hears is medical jargon she only sort of understands and sounds of surgery she really wishes she could un-hear. It’s enough to keep her from using her x-ray vision to try and find Maggie’s room. If she’s in surgery now, Kara is certain she doesn’t want to see it.

Kara eats through all of her snacks, nearly breaks her tablet in half attempting to type up an assignment for Snapper, and drains her phone battery playing games before she sees any sign of a doctor. She jumps every time the surgical ward doors open and is about ready to jump right out of her skin when the clerk finally calls her over. A doctor in green scrubs greets her with a smile and thankfully doesn’t wait for Kara to start asking questions.

“Your sister-in-law is in recovery. Whatever hit her shattered her spleen. She’s still critical, but she’s stable for the moment.”

There’s only one question Kara can think to ask. “Can I see her?” If Kara can see her, if she can hold Maggie’s hand and see with her own eyes that she’s okay, then she can breathe again. She can call Alex with scary but good news, and she’ll know that she hasn’t lost anyone else. Not tonight.

The doctor presses his lips together and shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. She lost a lot of blood and she’s not entirely out of the woods yet.”

Kara feels all of the air leave her body in a rush, and her hope with it. The doctor tilts his head, sympathy clear in his eyes, and he pats her on the shoulder. It’s awkward to say the least, but Kara appreciates the effort all the same. “We’re monitoring her for the next couple of hours. If she remains stable and her heartrate and blood pressure come up, we’ll let you in for a brief visit, okay?”

Kara just nods, the lump in her throat stalling any words from forming. The doctor pats her shoulder again and walks away. Kara sits back down. She stares at nothing for long minutes before she picks up her phone. Finding Alex in her recent contacts only takes muscle memory, and the phone is ringing before Kara’s really ready, before she can overthink timezones and what details to leave in or leave out.

“Kara? Are you okay?” Alex’s voice is heavy and slurred. Kara lets out a breath and wishes she’d made a plan first. But she’s here now, and her sister needs to know what’s happening.

“I’m okay, but Maggie was hurt.”

\--

It’s another two hours of waiting, another five phone calls and dozens of texts with Alex and Eliza before they let Kara see Maggie.

The nurse warns her that Maggie looks worse than she is. Tells her that they had to remove Maggie’s spleen, that she lost a lot of blood, that she’ll survive but she has a long road ahead of her. Kara is already looking past the nurse, past the thick wall, and into Maggie’s recovery room.

She can see the IVs pumping pain killers and sedatives and antibiotics into her bloodstream. She can see the space above and behind Maggie’s stomach where her spleen had been, can see how her other organs shift to fill the space.

The nurse finally moves aside and Kara crosses into the room slowly, carefully. Maggie blinks at her, recognition coming across her features by degrees. Her smile is lopsided and her eyes are glassy.

Kara sits down at Maggie’s bedside and takes her hand, feels the weight of it against her palm. Her fingers are cold and Kara curls her other hand around them, warming Maggie as best she can.

“Hey,” she whispers, not trusting her voice.

Maggie’s head lolls back against her pillows. “Hey, Kara.” Her voice is a little loud and very slurred. Kara smiles for the first time in what feels like days.

“Alex is on her way home. She’ll be here in the morning.” Kara keeps whispering, afraid to speak any louder for fear that even her voice could hurt Maggie.

“M’glad you’re here, Kar,” Maggie murmurs.

Kara laughs, wet and soggy, and presses a kiss to Maggie’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here, too.”

Maggie hums, her face peaceful as she drifts back into sleep.

Kara doesn’t protest when the nurse comes to tell her that her time is up. She’ll be back in the morning, with Alex and Eliza. She’ll be back every day, until Maggie can go home, to make sure her family stays whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beautiful wife for help writing the medical/hospital jargon.


	17. sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes change isn't so bad after all. (Kara/Cat)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the rating change!

The sun comes up slowly, casting the room in grays and yellows. Kara moves into the meager light, curling closer to the warm body next to her.

Her body aches in ways she's not used to. She can feel every blow her body has taken over the last few days, but she can also feel how her body was stretched last night, can still feel the phantom press of lips and teeth and hands. Kara breathes in and burrows further into blonde hair. She kisses the nape of her lover's neck, wondering briefly if she’s allowed to, if anything is different in the early morning light.

The contented hum from the woman pressed against her tells Kara that it’s allowed, encouraged even as Cat nestles back into the cradle of Kara’s hips.

Cat reaches out a hand, curling it around Kara’s fingers where they brush lazily along Cat’s waist. She pushes Kara’s hand greedily down, past her belly button, past soft curls. Kara bites down on Cat’s shoulder as her fingers slide into wet heat and Cat’s breathing hitches.

The rest of the world is waking up to the news that National City has survived once more, that Supergirl saved the day. The sun is rising again, as it did yesterday and the day before, and the residents of National City breathe a little easier, look to the sky and say _thank you_.

Kara hears none of them.

Without her powers, her world narrows to the yellow light struggling to push through her bedroom windows, to the soft scratch of her sheets and the smooth skin sliding against her body, to the intoxicating scents of sex and Cat’s perfume, to the heat engulfing her fingers and the strain in her wrist.

Her tongue tastes salt as it laps at Cat’s neck and she bites down again, gently, gently. She knows that right now she doesn’t have to hold back and the thought fills her, encourages her. She pulls Cat closer, reveling in the way her breasts press heavily against narrow shoulder blades.

Cat’s nails scratch up her forearm and Kara chokes out a breath, the air catching in her throat and electricity surging low in her belly.

She adjusts her arm and her fingers push deeper still, the steady in and out creating a delicious burn in her arm. Her hips rock against Cat’s backside, the friction intense but fleeting, and she can’t help but cry out.

Cat arches against her, feet pressing into Kara’s shins for leverage. Kara buries her face in Cat’s hair and breathes in harshly, pulling the older woman impossibly closer as her orgasm suddenly overtakes her. She huffs out a surprised laugh and moves her hand again, sodden fingers slipping out to rub sloppily against Cat’s clit until Cat is gripping Kara’s arm hard enough to leave marks. She comes with a keening cry that fills the room.

The sun continues its slow ascent. Kara wonders at the way her heart pounds, at the way her body craves more even as she hums against the back of Cat’s neck in appreciation, in satisfaction.

Cat recovers first, twisting in her lover’s arms until they’re face to face, hazel eyes glowing gold as sunlight breaks between neighboring apartment buildings. The new position intensifies Kara’s need and her hips grind against Cat’s pelvis, chasing heat. Cat reaches up a hand, smoothing her palm against Kara’s cheek as she draws her in for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue. With a far-too-easy push, Kara finds herself on her back, arms automatically wrapping around Cat.

Before too long, Cat breaks the kiss, looking down on Kara with a gleam in her eye. Her lips leave a scalding trail from the point of Kara’s jaw to her hipbone and Kara can hardly catch her breath before Cat’s hands are pushing her legs apart and that wicked mouth descends.

\--

Later, much later, when they’re both sated and spent and the sun is high in the sky, Cat curls on top of Kara, her ear pressed against Kara’s sternum and her arms bracketing Kara’s waist. Kara’s hands press flat against Cat’s back and neither of them speak.

Golden sunlight, too warm and too bright, fills the room, a reminder that the day has gone on without them and the world outside is waiting. Kara knows she has at least six missed calls from her sister, and Cat’s phone has been buzzing from inside the Hermes bag tossed haphazardly against Kara’s dresser since last night.

Kara tightens her grip on Cat and lays a gentle kiss against the crown of her head. The world can wait, just a little while longer.


	18. fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's nice to wonder. (Kara/Cat)

It goes like this:

Sometimes she’s in bed, sunlight streaming in through the windows, warm body next to her hogging the covers. She’s happy and sated and so, so loved.

For a long time, the person next to her is a faceless blur, but over time, details fill in. Blonde hair. Bright green eyes, with golden flares that Kara gets lost in.

Sometimes a baby cries from across the hall, and Kara pulls herself out of bed before her wife wakes. The baby’s room is a nebulous blur of color, reds and blues, greens and yellows.

Always sunny. Always warm.

The baby’s eyes are green and gold and so, so bright. Just like her mother’s.

Kara has the idea that the baby is a girl, even if she doesn’t remember knowing that.

She smells amazing and her hair is the softest thing Kara has ever felt. Her smile makes Kara’s heart soar. Every time.

The baby’s name changes. Sometimes it’s something all-American, a name created to be unobtrusive, to blend in and be looked over.  Sometimes it’s something otherworldly, a name that, for Kara, is closer to home.

This time, Kara wants to pretend that she’s no different from anyone else on Earth. This time, all Kara wants is to feel normal, to feel like she can have a happy life with a wife and a baby and a job she loves. This time she doesn’t want to feel like her every move is wrapped in tragedy.

It breaks down if she thinks about it for too long.

How are the Danvers still her family, Alex her sister, if her parents are still alive?

What does it mean for the legacy of her family, of the House of El, if she wasn’t born on Krypton? If Krypton never existed?

How would she have met Cat, how would they have fallen in love, if she were never Supergirl?

So she doesn’t think.

She lets her mind wander and she ignores the ache in her chest and she lets herself be happy, even if it’s all pretend.

It’s not that she wants to be human. Being Kryptonian, being Supergirl, those are things that will always be a part of her, that she’ll never let go of. But the overwhelming burden that’s been placed on her loved ones just for being who she is bites at her sometimes.  

Sometimes, late at night when she’s alone, her mind drifts to those places buried deep in the corners where things are easier.

Places like the bedroom of a little girl with golden hair and bright eyes.

Places like the kitchen of Cat Grant’s beach house, where Alex and Eliza and Jeremiah mingle with Alura and Zor-El and Astra;

where James and Winn hold court with Carter and J’onn and Maggie;

where Lucy and M’Gann and Lois and Kal-El are welcomed with open arms to some unnamed celebration, Cat in the middle of it all.

Places where her family is whole and happy. Places where all the world’s atrocities never reach them.

\--

“Supergirl, come in, Supergirl! What is your ETA on that warehouse fire?”

“Less than a minute out, J’onn, I see it.”

“When you’re done there, ma’am, we’re picking up reports of suspicious activity by the docks. From the sound of things, could be that Amalak we’ve been tracking.”

“On it, Vasquez.”

\--

Kara wouldn’t trade the life she’s made for anything, but sometimes, sometimes it’s nice to wonder.


	19. marble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's comfort in knowing that letting go of the past is the best path forward. (Cat/Kara)

Her mother’s house feels like a mausoleum.

The sound of her heels clicking against the marble floors echoes through the entryway. She glares at the bust of her maternal grandfather as she continues into the receiving room. The high ceiling and glistening chandelier which fascinated her as a child loom overhead. She finds them ostentatious now, relics of generations past that her mother felt improved the family’s stature in the eyes of… well, anyone beneath them, really.

It wasn’t enough to own a brownstone in Metropolis. Katherine Grant had to make sure that anyone setting foot in her home knew her family could _afford_ it.

Cat crosses the room, barely sparing it a glance, and passes through the heavy wooden doors to the living room, with her father’s reading chair and the fireplace she wasn’t allowed near as a child.

The front rooms of the house feel antiquated in a way her mother was not. She kept this house in pristine condition with modern amenities, but the style is classic old money. Her penthouse uptown and her apartment in Paris, places where she would entertain her literary friends, are all modern minimalist chic. The brownstone, though, is a home in a way the others aren’t, and Cat can feel the years the more time she spends here.

The same photographs have lined the living room mantle since Cat was a teenager, save for one tiny print of Carter’s kindergarten photo, the only memento in the house that shows that Katherine Grant cared for her grandson at all.

Cat pauses there, running a fingertip along the golden edge of the picture frame.

Carter had lost a tooth the night before picture day and he couldn’t stop running his tongue over the wound. Its pink tip poked out between his teeth in his grin when he smiled for the camera, and Cat can’t help but smile at the memory.

Pausing only long enough to appraise the other photos—her high school graduation portrait, posed family photos when she was three, seven, and ten, her parents’ wedding portrait—she continues into the hallway and past the staircase.

Tucked into the back of the house behind stained glass that her father loved, the library was her favorite room growing up.

Cat’s early, the lawyers and appraisers not due for at least an hour, so she lets herself explore.

Her mother has moved things since she was last here. More modern literature lines the shelves at eye-level, along with prestigious titles and first editions. The books Cat read growing up and the books her father loved have been moved to the higher shelves, away from judgmental eyes and conversation. But the room itself is unchanged.

Floor to ceiling shelving lines an entire wall. The rolling ladder stands in the corner, its rungs well-worn from years of use, first by Cat and her parents, and then by Katherine’s assistants and housekeepers. Leather armchairs fill out the room near the windows, and everything is decorated in rich, dark hues to accentuate the natural light.

Cat moves away from the overwhelming display of books, drawn to the light outside. There isn’t much of a view, just a small Italian-style garden in the backyard, but she finds the green of the lawn and the heat of the sun through the windows comforting. She leans her hip against one of the armchairs and crosses her arms.

That’s how Kara finds her some time later.

She comes in quietly, undoubtedly letting her x-ray vision guide her. She steps up beside Cat, the hardwood floor gently creaking under her feet, and reaches out a hand to rest on the other woman’s lower back. It’s comforting, but Cat isn’t sure it’s what she needs.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“You’re not, dear. Everything alright?” Cat can smell the acrid familiarity of burning diesel on Kara’s skin.

“Yeah.” Kara doesn’t elaborate and Cat doesn’t ask her to.

They stand like that for some time. Cat’s hips protest the odd angle but she doesn’t correct her posture. Her back has begun to sweat against her silk blouse and the heat of Kara’s hand, but she doesn’t ask her to move it.

She hasn’t cried. She thinks perhaps she won’t, that maybe she’s not able to.

It would fit her public image if she didn’t, her icy, exacting nature in front of her staff, the board, the rest of the media hounds perfectly intact.

But Kara kisses her shoulder, just a soft press of lips to silk, and Cat turns her head. Her eyes light on a photograph tucked into a corner on an end table, half-hidden behind a lamp. Cat pushes off the armchair and away from Kara’s warmth.

The frame is marble to match the front entryway, lined with a thin band of gold. The photograph is black and white. Katherine Grant is laughing at something unseen, her eyes bright and her smile wide. She’s young, Kara’s age or perhaps younger. Cat picks up the frame one-handed, her touch delicate. It’s heavier than she remembers and muscle memory is the only thing that keeps her from dropping it.

She has the selfish thought to keep this memento for herself, to hide it away somewhere it won’t see the light of day again. But Kara’s presence in the room feels like a balm, and Cat is speaking before she’s really thought her words through.

“I never saw her like this,” she begins, her voice uncomfortably thick. “Happy.”

Kara moves closer, peering down at the frame in Cat’s hand.

“This is who my father fell in love with, but I never knew her.” Cat frowns down at the photograph and brushes drops of moisture off of the edge of the frame with the flat of her hand. “I used to stare at this picture for hours as a child. My father told me he took it the day he asked her to marry him.”

Cat smiles, lost in memories. Kara kisses her shoulder again and reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair behind Cat’s ear. Cat sighs and leans into the younger woman’s side.  

“I asked him once,” Cat laughs, wet and intrusive in the quiet of the library, “I couldn’t have been older than six or seven, and I asked him, ‘Daddy, why doesn’t Mother smile like this now? Is it because she’s mad that she married you?’”

Kara laughs and instantly covers her mouth with her hand, like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Cat sets the photograph back on the table and turns back to Kara, pulling her hand down from her face and kissing the backs of her knuckles.

“What, uh, what did your dad say?” Kara tucks her lips to her teeth but can’t keep her smile from peeking through.

Cat smiles back and shrugs a shoulder. “He just laughed and said, ‘Kitten’—that’s what he called me then, don’t get any ideas—he said, ‘Kitten, being married to me is the best and worst thing your mother’s ever done.’” Cat’s smile fades as her eyes are drawn to the photograph once more. “I didn’t understand what he meant until my second marriage dissolved.”

Cat shakes her head and licks at her front teeth, willing away the tightness in her throat and the heat in her eyes.

Just as Kara reaches out her hands, intent to gather Cat into her arms, her jaw tightens and she tilts her head. Her brow furrows as she turns to look through the walls and doors, eyes squinting a little out of reflex. Cat blinks away her tears and marvels, as she always does, at Kara’s blatant display of her powers.

She isn’t surprised then, when seconds later Kara straightens and murmurs, “the appraiser is here.” Cat nods and blows out a breath. She takes one last look around the library and then takes Kara’s hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. She leads them back the way she came in, down the hallway, through the living room and the receiving room until her heels click against the floor of the entryway, until her posture is regal and her expression aloof.

The appraiser greets her with a formal handshake and gives Kara a once-over down his nose before shaking her hand, too. She squeezes his fingers together just a little too hard and Cat has to hide her smile at his grimace.

Katherine’s lawyers and a representative from her bank come up the walk behind him a moment later and Cat spares one last glance at Kara before they get down to business. Kara smiles, reassurance and love in her eyes, and Cat feels like she can breathe for the first time since crossing the brownstone’s threshold. Their footsteps echo on the marble as Cat leads everyone into the house. As they gather in the living room, spreading documents across the mahogany coffee table, Cat thinks that once this house is gone, she might feel like she can let go of her mother, too.


	20. flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This shouldn't be the hardest decision of Alex's day, but here she is. (Alex/Maggie, Alex x Winn brotp, genfic)

Alex Danvers is not easily flustered. In the field, facing down enemy combatants twice her size with abilities beyond science and imagination, she is unflappable. The other agents at the DEO look to her for guidance and leadership, because they know that Alex keeps cool under pressure and nine times out of ten makes the right call.

None of that means anything when faced with a challenge like this.

“Dude, just pick something,” Winn whines in her ear, and Alex’s heart rate skyrockets. She clenches her jaw and looks skyward. The fluorescent lights of the shop blind her just a little and she welcomes the pain. Anything to distract from how useless she feels right now.

“I can’t just _pick something_ , Winn, jesus,” she hisses. “These things _mean_ stuff.” Alex shakes her head and stalks to the end of the aisle. The sweet scents of what seems like thousands of flowers assault her senses. She grips her phone hard enough to hear the plastic creak and she huffs out a breath. “What if I get her something that means like, ‘I hope you die,’ huh?”

“Pfft, look, there _cannot_ be such a thing, alright? Just… just pick something that looks pretty and will make her smile.” Winn pauses on his end and Alex’s eyes frantically scan the flowers in front of her. “Just go with something simple, even. Hey—what’s Maggie’s favorite color?”

Alex nods, trying to control her breathing. “Right, yeah, simple,” she repeats. “Maggie’s favorite color…” She trails off when she realizes her mind has drawn a complete blank. She laughs, then, high and airy. “We’ve been together for three years. I know her favorite color off the top of my head, totally.” Panic is back, closing her throat and making her words rush together.

“Yo, calm down. Do you want me to come meet you?” Alex shakes her head, even though he can’t see her. “Or, hey, you could text Kara and see if she can, like, discreetly ask?”

Alex is seriously considering that last option when a petite woman with dark skin and magenta hair comes around the corner. She’s wearing a green apron and flashes Alex a brilliant smile. “Hi, can I help you with something today?”

Alex hangs up on Winn in a panic, hiding her phone behind her like she’s done something wrong. She smiles at the store’s employee with just a little too much effort and tries to discreetly tuck her phone into her back pocket. It starts buzzing almost immediately but she ignores it. Winn can wait.

“Hi.” She draws out the word and she knows she looks a little manic with her too-wide smile and panic in her eyes. Her first instinct is to decline the offer of help, to tell the shopkeep that she’s fine on her own. “I’m… um…”

But the words don’t come.

Alex breathes in, inhaling a heady perfume of sweet fragrances, and her shoulders droop in defeat. “Yes, please,” she exhales. She smiles again, gentler this time. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

The woman smiles and wipes her hands on her apron, looking over the flowers in front of them before turning back to Alex. “Okay, well, if you’re looking for flowers, you’re in the right place, so that’s a start,” she says with a laugh that puts Alex at ease.

“Ha, yeah, that’s about as far as I’ve gotten.” Alex’s smile turns into a frown. She fiddles with the wedding band on her left hand. “I don’t want to get the wrong thing.”

The employee nods knowingly. “In the doghouse?” she asks wryly.

“Oh, no! Nothing like that!” Alex laughs out a breath and shakes her head. “No—”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—”

They both laugh, the employee gesturing in front of her with her hands. “Most customers we get who ‘don’t want to get the wrong thing’ are straight men who’ve pissed off their wives. I didn’t mean to assume.”

“It’s alright.” Alex pauses. “Really?”

“Ohh yeah. I’m Eva, by the way.” She sticks out her hand a little awkwardly, like she isn’t sure she’s supposed to, but Alex gives her a firm shake anyway.

“Alex.”

“Okay, Alex, how can I help you today?” Eva asks, laying on her customer service voice a little thick.

Alex nods, chewing on her bottom lip. She reaches out and brushes her fingertips over a rose blossom. “My wife’s a detective with the NCPD. She was injured in the line of duty while I was out of town on business.” She swallows the hot lump forming in her throat and shakes her head to will away more tears. She cried enough on the plane and she hasn’t even seen Maggie yet. “I only just got back to town an hour ago.”

Eva reaches out a hand and squeezes Alex’s forearm. “I’m so sorry.”

Alex sucks in a breath, startled at the warm, comforting weight of Eva’s hand. “Yeah, she’s… she’s okay, but it’s gonna be a long road. Um…”

Alex cups the back of her neck with her hand, running her palm over the shorn hair there. She’s been doing that so much since Kara called her that she’s surprised she hasn’t made a bald spot at the base of her head.

“I figured the hospital gift shop would just have cheap crap.” She shrugs. “I want to get her something special,” she whispers, her voice failing her now that some of the stress has drained away.

Eva nods, frowning in sympathy or thought, Alex isn’t sure. “Alright, we can do that,” Eva says, her voice thick. “Yeah, yeah, give me just a minute, we’re gonna get something for your wife that she’ll love.”

Eva turns to survey the flowers, shaking her head and muttering to herself, “Mm, peony, maybe?”

Alex follows behind as Eva bustles down the aisle and around a corner to several display cases. She lets Eva work, keeping a curious eye on her as she selects flowers seemingly on a whim. The way she inspects them, deep in thought, and puts some back while keeping others lets Alex know that there is a method to the woman’s madness.

She remembers Winn then, now that her mind has had a chance to settle and the decision-making is in capable hands, and she pulls her phone out of her pocket. She has two missed calls and about thirty texts from Winn. She opens her messenger app and immediately shakes her head.

[Winn 9:38am]: _Did we get disconnected?_

[Winn 9:38am]: _Where’d you go?_

[Winn 9:40am]: _DUDE what the hell._

Alex scrolls down, skipping over some of Winn’s rambling.

[Winn 9:47am]: _Did you have a panic attack? Do you need me to get you?_

[Winn 9:50am]: _Aaaaalllleeeeeexxx_

Alex rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to Eva for a moment, who has a counter-full of flowers that she seems to be placing both at random and with the utmost care. Eva washes and cuts and places flowers with such precision that it seems almost second-nature to her. Alex wonders if her own face looks like that when she’s stripping and cleaning her service weapon.

Eva straightens up and surveys her work and then shakes her head, replacing a few flowers and rearranging others. Alex turns back to the rest of Winn’s messages.

[Winn 9:54am]: _J’onn says I can’t get you because he needs me to run surveillance on that Taeren nest SG found up the coast last week._

[Winn 9:55am]: _You’re welcome, by the way_

The last message is from just a few minutes prior, and it’s enough to guilt Alex into texting back.

[Winn 10:01am]: _I hope you’re okay. Maggie’s tough, she’ll pull through and will probably be bench-pressing you in no time._

Her answering smile is soft, a little wistful, and she blinks back tears.

[Alex 10:05am]: _I’m fine. Got some help in the form of Eva the flower shop employee. Talk later._

She gets a thumbs-up emoji in response and figures he’s busy at his computer.

Alex slips her phone back in her pocket and works her way to Eva at the counter.

“There we go.” Eva holds up the finished bouquet and Alex is amazed that a simple display of white and pale pink flowers looks so elegant. “I hope you don’t mind I just kind of went to town.”

Alex shakes her head. “No, that’s… I mean, I don’t know what I’m doing in a place like this, clearly. Thank you.” She takes the proffered bouquet gingerly.

“So the white heather is meant to be for protection,” Eva gestures to a tall spray of white flowers with a dramatically red stamen, “and the peony is for prosperity and a good marriage,” she winks and runs her fingertips over the large pink blossoms at the center, “and then Queen Anne’s lace can sometimes symbolize a safe haven.” The wide disc of tiny white flowers of the Queen Anne’s lace is unmistakable at the edges of the bouquet.

“Thank you,” Alex says again, her voice a whisper around the lump in her throat. “I think Maggie will love them.”

She clutches the flowers a little tighter in one hand and pulls her wallet out of her pocket with the other. She doesn’t bother asking how much the flowers cost—she would pay anything for the kind of service and attention to detail she’s just received. Eva looks a little embarrassed to be taking Alex’s credit card, but soon enough, the transaction is over. Eva jumps a little as Alex turns to go. She comes around the counter and walks Alex to the door.

She holds the door open, the little bell above them tinkling softly. “I hope your wife makes a full recovery, and remember to take care of yourself, too.” She looks like she wants to say more, but instead just reaches out and squeezes Alex’s forearm.

Alex smiles and thanks her again with a nod, holding the flowers close to her chest like the precious cargo they are. She moves out of the shop and onto the busy sidewalk. She feels like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. The hospital is only a block and a half away, but Alex can’t wait to get there and see the look in Maggie’s eyes, no matter how drugged up she might be, when she gives her the flowers.


End file.
